


Embracing the Rainbow

by Elena_Parker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Apathetic Harry Potter, Checker face is doomed, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Gen, Harry Potter Has Sky Flames, Harry and Skull are bff's, Harry collects the Arcobaleno one by one, Harry doesn't like her friend being cursed, Harry is Skull's Sky, It has grave consequences on EVERYONE, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Multi, Plot Twists, Scheming Harry, Sky Arcobaleno Harry, The Mafia won't know what hit them when Harry strikes, Tsuna.......... not somuch, Varia is an accident, Vongola Tenth Gen willingly joins the madness, and decides to do something about this, honestly, the cannon is obviously thrown out of the window
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2019-11-05 08:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17915297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elena_Parker/pseuds/Elena_Parker
Summary: Skull was known as the Immortal Stuntman- ‘the-man-whom-even-the-Grim-Reaper-Hated’. Ironic, really, considering Death’s Mistress liked him enough to actually let him stay beneath her all-encompassing Sky. MoD!Harry, Fem!Harry, Grey!Harry,





	1. It all started with a smile

**Author's Note:**

> How Skull became the Immortal stuntman..........

There was a reason Skull was known as the _Immortal_ Stuntman- _and no, it wasn’t because Skull had a flair for dramatics that is almost comparable to Reborn’s_. There was a reason Skull– _weak, crybaby, Skull_ \- was foolhardy enough to rush head-first into any trouble without any fear of death. It wasn’t because he was arrogant enough to think that he wouldn’t die -because by god he has faced that being with _dried-sack-of-calcium-with-tattered-robes (also known as **Death** )_ and no manners far more times than any sane person would be willing to meet.  The fact that Death _hated_ his guts –because he always, _always_ slips under his bony hands and always ends up alive even after _dying_ doesn’t exactly help his case. But well, it’s not like he actually eager enough to die. For some reason, death – _not the Spirit, mind you_ \- seem to follow him eagerly like a lost puppy – _one time he even ended up dying after slipping on a wet floor of his bathroom and ended up getting his cranium cracked. ‘nuff said._

 

Though, the reason for his so called ‘Immortality’ happens to be a strange one. Simple, but strange. And a bit amusing too, well….. if you have twisted sense of humor that is. So……. the thing is, Skull isn’t immortal because he did something gloriously amazing like saving the world or shit like you see in movies or comics – _Pfft, really, what are you high on?!_ \- nor did he do some gruesomely horrendous ritual to please some high deity with a sick sense of humor. What he _really_ did was something relatively simple- and remarkably mundane enough to not warrantee ‘immortality’ in return.

 

All he did was made the Mistress of Death smile. And in return, he was granted immortality.

 

The story somehow went on like this……….

* * *

 

**I.**

 

The memory of their first meeting was still fuzzy and unclear to him, but _she_ clearly remembered it well –being an immortal Goddess(?) and all. Meh, all he remembered from that encounter was bright flaming red hair and shimmering green eyes that reminded him of pretty emeralds-

_._

_._

_._

_The seven year old blinked as he stared at the strange place that was way too bright, making him flinch at the sudden brightness. He blinked and adjusted his purple eyes to the brightness, and stared curiously at his surroundings, and tilted his head in confusion. A train station. (A deserted one at that. And clearly much, much cleaner than any of the others he had the (mis)fortune of travelling to.)_

_How did he arrive at a train station in the blink of an eye? Wasn’t he in the park though….?_

_He flinched as memories flashed before his eyes, reminding of what had happened to him earlier. apparently, he had been climbing a tree to escape the bullies who were oddly keen on making his life miserable – **he didn’t understand why other children needed to make fun of his hair and make his life miserable just because he looked different…… So what if he had natural purple hair? it wasn’t his fault his hair was like that, okay?!** \- and had slipped when a particularly persistent brat had threw a stone -the size of his fist- at him, making his footing unstable, making him fall down the tree and hit his head and then-_

_Painpainpain **painpAINPAINPAIN-!**_

_“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A soft voice snapped him out of his trance._

_He blinked and glanced at the place where the source of the voice, and found himself staring at a woman sitting on a bench in a lone corner of the train station. Her body and face was mostly obscured by the dark cloak covering her body, but the red hair that spilled from her shoulders and green eyes that seemed to glow even with the strangely shadowing hood over her head made her recognizable enough. And he thought he had strange hair color._

_He didn’t speak, instead, he stared at her warily. A wise decision, considering the fact that these times weren’t kind. Also, his Grandpa would have his head if he learned that he just trusted some stranger with a blind eye. Hey, he’s seven, not stupid, okay?_

****

_The woman tilted her hooded head and spoke, “You’re quite young to be here on your own. Tell me, did you leave something unfinished, and regret leaving early?”_

_He stared at the creepy lady who just did not make any sense._

_“Ah, that explains it.” The woman hummed a moment later, her green eyes oddly transfixed over his hands._

_He wondered what was so interesting about his hands and glanced down, only to gasp in disbelief when he saw purple fire shooting out of his hands. **His hands were on fire. Literally.** And the creepy lady sitting across was just staring at all this with relative ease – **as if he hadn’t just accidentally shattered his world views into pieces and rendered physics useless with just an impromptu visit to some deserted train station out of nowhere.**_

****

**_What is the world coming to?!_ **

_The purple fire didn’t recede, instead, it just kept spreading, and soon, his whole body was on fire. He shrieked, because hell, he’s burning and it’s gonna hurthurthurthurthurt-!_

_-only to click his mouth shut a moment later and stare disbelievingly at the purple fire that was being emitted from his body when he realized that it didn’t actually **hurt.** For some strange reason, the fire didn’t hurt him, at all._

****

**_This……. what is this sorcery?!_ **

_A chuckle resounded in the empty train station, and he later realized that it was the woman who had just laughed._

_He puffed his cheeks in annoyance and asked, “What’s so funny?”_

_The woman just shook her head and mumbled, “It’s nothing.” Green eyes blinked, and a moment later, she asked, “……….What’s your name, child?”_

_He shot her a wary look and said, “Grandpa said not to tell strangers anything about myself.”_

_The woman nodded. “And he was right. You shouldn’t talk to strangers.” She then tilted her head and asked, “But we won’t be strangers anymore if we introduce ourselves to each other, right?”_

_He had to admit – **even if a bit reluctantly** \- that the woman had a point._

_“Harry. I am Harry.” The woman continued, “Now that you know my name, wouldn’t it be polite of you to introduce yourself too, right?”_

_He pouted –and because his Grandpa didn’t raise an impolite boy, he answered, “………..Neil. My name is Neil.”_

_“Neil….” The woman glanced at the purple fire surrounding him, and chuckled, “How ironic.”_

_He stared at her in confusion. What did she mean….?_

_The two of them stayed together in companionable silence. Neil guessed the woman –Harry- wasn’t really bad, even if she was a bit creepy and way too quiet for her own good -but maybe it’s because she’s a bit shy…? Who knows?_

_“Oh,” Harry said sometime later, “It’s time for you to go back.”_

_Neil stared down and indeed, he saw that his limbs were somehow fading (?) slowly. He glanced up at Harry, with questions and emotions churning inside him, waiting to be let out. Like- **who are you really? What is this place? Why are you here, alone? What is with this purple fire? And what do you mean by ‘going back’?** So many questions, so little answers………._

_But somehow, when he opened his mouth, all he could think about was how her green eyes seem to flicker with loneliness, and he couldn’t help but say reluctantly, “……I’ll come to visit you as often as I can.”_

_Harry – **surprisingly** \- shook her head, and spoke “I appreciate your intentions, but don’t.” She then paused, and mumbled, “Don’t come back here until you’ve lived your life to the fullest and have no regrets.” She smiled and said, “I’ll wait for you here.”_

_The train station then disappeared from his view as he gradually faded away, and woke up in a pool of blood –his blood- in the deserted playground, with her words echoing in his head-_

_“So just stay alive and **live,** Neil.”_

_._

_._

_._

The second time he met her a few years later, in the same deserted train station……….

_._

_._

_._

_The teen glanced around at the overly clean train station, and the cloaked woman with green eyes sitting before him on a bench, and blinked his eyes in confusion. **What is this? A dream? A hallucination?**_

****

_Hadn’t he dreamed of something like this in his childhood? So, what is this? A sequel of that dream or something?_

_The woman – **what was her name again Hannah? Henry- wait, that’s a boy’s name!-** huffed and said, “Didn’t I tell you to **not** come here so soon?”_

_“Uh….” Neil scratched the back of his head, feeling quite like a child who has been caught red-handed while stealing cookies, and mumbled uncertainly. “I thought you were lonely, and decided to visit?”_

****

**_Smooth, Neil. Real smooth._ **

_The women rolled her eyes and mumbled, “Well, aren’t you such a smooth talker.” She then smiled –he couldn’t actually see it, but he **knew** she was smiling, man’s intuition and all (and yup, it’s a legit thing…… Oh shut it, if he says it’s legit, then it is, okay?!) “You’ve grown into a fine young man, Neil.”_

_His ears turned red- **and no, he was not embarrassed. Nope. Not at all…….**\- and before he could say anything, the woman – **oh, he remembered now! Her name’s Harry…………it’s still a boyish name** \- said, “It’s nice to know you care about an old thing like me” -Old thing? Have you even watched yourself in the mirror?! even if he can’t exactly see her face clearly– **what with the cloak and the hood** \- but from the sound of her voice and her eyes, he can very well deduce that she was quite young and not as old as she imagined herself to be- “-but don’t come back here until it’s your time.”_

_“Now, shoo! Do what you’re supposed to do and stop visiting me here. Merlin knows how many inter-planar and universal laws you’ve broken by now by appearing here.” Saying this, she waved her hand in a shooing motion, and an orange fire erupted around him, and amidst his panic of **OhGodI’llbunburnburnbURNBURN-!** he blacked out._

_and then he woke up in the very alley he had been mobbed and then stabbed by a bunch of thugs, and wondered if it was all a dream or actually real._

_._

_._

_._

And then he returned a third time-.

_._

_._

_._

_Harry stared at him, unimpressed. “Did I tell you to not come back so soon?”_

_He chuckled sheepishly and mumbled, “Uh, you did?_  
  


_Emerald green eyes glared at him in irritation, and she growled, “Then **why are you here?”**_

_“Ah,” Neil said with a somewhat cocky smile on his face –so as to hide his uneasy expression- and said, “Why wouldn’t I visit a pretty lady such as you?”_

_She gave him a flat look, and then waved her hand. He stared at her, confused –_

****

**_Smack!_ **

_-only to screech in pain a moment later as a literal broom materialized from thin air and smacked itself on his head with his handle._

_“Wha-?” he exclaimed and gaped at the hovering sentient broom and mumbled in coherently **, “How?!”** he then snapped his head towards her, and asked with wide, purple eyes, “How did you do that?!”_

**_“Magic.”_ ** _She deadpanned, to which he just shot an equally unimpressed look. Yeah, right.  As if he’d believe that. She just shook her head exasperatedly, as if expecting his reaction._

_._

_._

_._

The fourth time he met her was when his Grandpa died-

_._

_._

_._

_Neil didn’t know what he was doing here. All he remembered was sitting before his Grandpa’s grave on a particularly stormy night, and the next moment he found himself back in the horrendously bright train station with Harry._

_Harry –who was still sitting on the bench (doesn’t she get cramps sitting at the same place in the same position every time he visited?)\- observed his pale skin – **paler than it usually is** , the red rims around his eyes and the dark bags under his eyes, and asked blankly, “What happened?”_

_He toyed the idea about lying to her for some time, but then discarded it the next second. In all his visits till now, he had gleaned the fact that it was really hard to lie to Harry. Maybe she has a literal lie detector installed in her brain, who knows?_

_………Besides, he didn’t want to lie to her. She was his friend – **sorta** \- and he could do with the company of a friend for now. Someone, who won’t either stare at him with pitying eyes while offering condolences,…….._

_He stared at her tiredly, and mumbled, “My Grandpa died.”_

_“Oh.” She stared at him with no pity or any kind of judgement in her eyes. Just plain, old nonchalance._

_“He had always been there when I needed him.” he choked out. “After my parents died, he had been the one to pick me up.” Words tumbled out of his mouth and he just kept babbling, “You see, he fed me, clothed me, took care of me….. He made me what I am today. I thought I’d get the chance to repay his kindness. You know, he always used to say that he wanted to visit Venice for once in his life. I had wanted to make his dream come true with my own efforts. And now…….. he isn’t here.” Tears spilled out of his eyes, and rolled down his cheeks, and he couldn’t help but sob. He had thought his tears had dried after crying so much, but maybe……… he just hadn’t cried **enough.** “I just….” he gasped. “I just wish I had spent more time with him………. that I should ‘ve worked harder to get more money so that I could make his dream come true…..”_

_He didn’t know why he blabbed everything to her, but he guessed he just needed to let it all out._

_“…….You had so many regrets, huh?” She spoke softly._

_He just nodded, since he wasn’t confident enough to not break out into another round of sobs if he spoke again._

_Her green eyes stared at his crying form in conflict, and then she sighed in resignation. For the first time since he had ever met her, she got up from the bench and walked towards her._

_“Five minutes,” She said as she dropped something cold in his palm. He wondered what she was giving him, and glanced down, only to face palm on seeing a black stone in his hand. **Really… why a stone though?........**   She ignored his expression and just kept explaining in a monotone. “Think about your Grandpa while inserting a small amount of Cloud Flames-“ at his questioning look, she answered- “Purple fire into the stone.” She the patted his head and said, “Make sure you don’t have any regrets regarding him.”_

_Saying this she vanished into thin air before his eyes, **quite literally.**_

_He stared disbelievingly at the place Harry had just been standing on, and once again wondered if she was a magician or something, because her tricks were really cool. How does she even do that?_

_Shaking his head, he squinted his eyes at the stone in his hand. What had she said to him…..? Insert purple fire in the stone?_

_………. **How was he supposed to do that, again?**_

_He shrugged. Meh, he’ll just wing it then._

_He stared at the stone. Maybe if he stared hard enough, then the stone will catch fire?_

**_………..No result._ **

_Huffing, he resisted the urge to throw the damn stone away. What would it even accomplish anyways…..? **Damn Harry, why can’t she just say anything without the usual amount of cryptic messages and general creepiness?!**_

_She had said to insert Cloud Flames in the stone, as if it had been simple enough task. Yeah right, as if anything in like is that simple. Like, he just had to will it, and the stone will catch on fire._

**_Swish-!_ **

_He yelped and almost dropped the stone. **Holy shit** , **the stone really caught fire! ……….** Maybe Harry really was onto something when she said about magic being real._

_Okay, what else had she said? ……….Think about Grandpa?_

_He thought of his Grandpa- the grumpy old man who would whine about his old age to make Neil do his chores properly, who’d make fun of his cooking but would still eat what he had cooked, who would tell him stories of all the fascinating places he had visited and the people he had met……._

_A moment later, the stone in his hand – **that was engulfed in purple flames** \- glowed, and soon, he found himself staring at a flickering visage of an old man standing before him._

_“Neil…..” the old man smiled. “How have you been?”_

_Neil gasped, tears welling up in his eyes and threatening to once again roll down his cheeks. “Oh, grandpa….” he choked out._

__

_ (A few minutes later…..) _

_Harry walked back on the polished marble platform of the blindingly bright train station and eyed Neil, who sat on the lone bench with his head down, and hunched shoulders. She then sat next to him._

_“……Thanks.” Neil mumbled as he gave her the stone back. She just took it with a nod. He observed her from the corner of his eye, and asked, “You are not human, are you? Who exactly are you….?”_

_She didn’t even glance at him as she replied blankly “Death.”_

_“Ah…” he said with a nod, unsure of what to feel. What was he supposed to feel anyways? **Fear? Awe? Wonder? Horror?**_

_………..He didn’t know._

_“……..Are you afraid?” She asked hesitantly a moment later._

**_Was he afraid of her?_ ** _He mused. He thought about it for a while. Sure, he had known Harry was strange from the very first time he met her. But he thought she was some creepy magician –or maybe just some figment of his imagination. Her being Death was quite a far-fetched conclusion he would never have come to if she hadn’t spilled it out to him out loud word-to-word._

**_But now that he knew this, was he really afraid of her?_ **

_Well, that wasn’t that difficult of a question to answer._

_“No.” He answered resolutely and honestly._

_Since he was sitting so close to her, he saw Harry smile as the dark hood shifted a bit – **a smile so bright that it would even blind the sun** \- and he was almost dazzled by the sight._

_“Thank you…..” She spoke warmly from the bottom of her heart and Neil wondered that maybe, having Death as a best friend wouldn’t be bad._

_._

_._

_._

* * *

 

**II.**

 

After that incident, he now knew that Harry wasn’t a dream or any illusion. That she was quite real, and every time he died – _whether it be because of his own stupidity or unfortunate incidents_ \- he’d find himself – _his conscious, actually_ \- back at the train station, and would spend his time with Harry while his body back on Earth would repair itself with purple fire **_–“Cloud Flames”_** , she called it.

 

During these visits, he came to know a lot about her. Like how her name was actually ‘Harriel Lily Potter’ and that she was actually a witch; about how she was actually older than him – _like, thousands of years older, and wasn’t that a shocking fact?!-_ and the only reason she looked young was because she was immortal and did not age, at all; she told him about how she wasn’t actually Death - _as she had claimed to be earlier for intimidation purpose_ , but was in fact the **“Master of Death”-** a title she head unknowingly gained in her late-teen years for uniting the three ancient artifacts of Death, and then throwing them away because she knew better than to thirst for power – _apparently the only person who can get this title is the person who does not greed for Death’s power and would treat Death like an old friend when they die_ ; that this title was nothing but a farce – _a curse, really_ \- because other than granting immortality, and the ability to neither die nor age, she had no power over death – _some **Master** she is_; she’d often tell him about the years she spent wandering different worlds and planes, the knowledge she gained from her adventures, the different sort of people she met – _her stories always fascinated him, and he loved the times when she spoke to him about them._  

 

She didn’t speak much about her life before she gained her accursed title, whenever he asked about that, she would turn away from him, and her green eyes would have a faraway look in them that made her seem like an ethereal being that would fly off into the sky – _and away from him_ \- when given the chance. And that scared him. He was reluctant to admit that he had gotten attached to her – _maybe a bit too much_ -and their visits were something he cherished very much –even if Harry disapproved of him dying again and again just to visit her (though in his defense, it isn’t his fault that he’s so inherently clumsy that he can’t even walk on ground without tripping over a stray pebble and cracking his cranium against a stray rock, and hence leading to his “Death”. By now, he’d equated the word “death” with “visiting Harry”, and nothing Harry says will change this fact. )

 

So when Harry would go in a daze, Neil would talk about his himself –of the pranks he had pulled on his bullies in his childhood, of his Grandpa scolding him for his mischiefs – _and the way he would fold on himself and flail in panic when Neil started crying_ , of the woman next door who loved to dress Neil up in ridiculous clothing and – _to his Horror_ \- would often grab him for an impromptu make-up session, of the old man from the vegetable store who’d sneak in a few pieces of tomatoes in his bag every time he came to buy groceries, of the over-worked couple living in the next street who’d often call him to babysit their rowdy twins, of his school days and how much his teachers despaired the fact that they couldn’t make Neil study, of him taking on part-time jobs when his Grandpa couldn’t earn them much daily expenses in the later years.

 

For all his loudness and talkative nature, there were some things that Neil would _never_ speak about, even to her- like how he had depressed for months following his Grandpa’s death; how his Uncle and Aunt – _whom he didn’t know even existed_ \- turned up after Grandpa’s funeral to claim as his guardian and snatched away everything his Grandpa left for him; Of their verbal and physical abuse he had to endure _every. single. day_ ; of them snatching away his paychecks from his part time jobs before he even had a chance to buy something for himself.

 

Though for all his secrecy, he didn’t think he had actually hidden those facts from her well enough – _what with the way her green eyes would stare at him knowingly, as if she knew all his secrets, but won’t push_ - _to keep the illusion of privacy_. It also didn’t help that these days, more often than not, he’d turn up in that strange train station with tired eyes, hunched back, and bruises littering his skin that barely stayed hidden beneath his clothes. When that happens, she would never ask what, or how, or why he hurt was, she would just glance over at his wounds, and heal them with a wave of her hand – _all the while humming a soothing tune under her breath- and all his exhaustion, hurt and anger would melt under her warmth and sometimes he wondered what had he done in his last life to deserve such kindness from her_.

 

And then, one day he overheard his relatives conversation about how they were going to milk him for all his worth, and would make him work off the debts that his parents owed them, and would not let him leave, and he decided that enough was enough. He was going to leave this place and never come back ever again.

_._

_._

_._

_“I feel like a bird in a gilded cage,” he said. “A bird that has it’s wings clipped and is being forced to remain in the cage. I don’t want to be caged, to be **tied**. I want to be **free**.” He spoke with a faraway look in his eyes._

_His purple eyes then flashed momentarily with pain and exhaustion and he said “But as long as I am Neil, I cannot free myself of the feeling of being caged. Every time I hear someone call me by this name, I feel suffocated, as if I am being tied down forcibly to something I **do not want**.” he stared at her and asked, “Does it make me a bad person for wishing to be someone else?”_

_“No.” she admitted with a nostalgic look in her eyes. “Merlin knows how many times I myself have wished for the same thing.”_

_._

_._

_._

 

* * *

 

**III.**

 

And so Neil discarded his name and left the house of his relatives – _not home, **never** home_\- and took to streets. He usually spent his nights sleeping either on the benches of park, or in some cheap hotels, he would often eat whatever food he could get from the meagre salary he managed to get with his odd-jobs, and he would wander form place to place – _sightseeing, meeting new people, experiencing their culture_. He never stayed at the same place for more than two months. For all his wandering, never once did he feel homesick- _like most people usually felt after spending so much time travelling_. The uneasiness he had felt back with is relatives started fading, and soon, he was enjoying his journey. He would often meet up with Harry, but as years went by, his visits became less and less frequent. he once asked if she minded his absence for longer times, but was relieved to hear that even though she was lonely, she was even more glad he finally was able to do what he wanted, and it was right of him to not visit the train station as much as he did – _apparently, living souls should not cross over to limbo and be allowed back to their own bodies._ Apparently, the only reason his soul hasn’t been dragged to purgatory for breaking the interdimensional laws was because of Harry’s interference. He really was glad he had such a great friend like Harry.

 

It was during one of his odd-jobs that he found the love of his life-

 

Motor-bikes.

 

_._

_._

_._

_“Well, I’m not opposed to having someone help me around with my work,” Daniel admitted as he scratched the back of his head, not minding his grease-stained hands and he shot the purple haired man a quizzical look and said, “But do you even know anything about vehicles –let alone repairing them?”_

_“I- I can learn!” He reassured the older man hastily._

_Daniel stared at him sharply for quite some time, and he held the older man’s gaze suppressing his own trembles, never backing down. Just when he thought to step back from his intense stare, the older man blinked and chuckled. “Ah, well, I guess having you around would be fine.” The man then tilted his head and asked, “What’s your name, though?”_

_He waved his hand and said, “Just call me Cloud.”_

_“Cloud, huh?” the man barked out in laughter and said in amusement, “How unimaginative.”_

_And so, he started working in Daniel’s Garage._

_._

_._

_._

It took him a few days to get a hang of the situation. By then he could help out with small errands like changing punctured tyres, checking on the brakes, oiling the engine of the various vehicles, etc….. sometimes, Daniel would even allow him to test-drive the vehicles to see if they’re fully repaired or not.

 

He loved those times, especially when he was allowed to test drive a motor-bike. the first time he was asked to do so, because the customer had been such an asshole and he had been irritated by him so much that in a spurt of moment he had cockily told Daniel that he knew he how to drive a bike –when in reality he knew shit about it. Praying not to fall down and break his bones –along with his pride- as weak as the motorbike, he had turned on the bike, and started out slow. It didn’t take long before the euphoria of driving a bike for the first time – _especially with wind that seemed to kiss his face, ruffling his hair as he had unconsciously sped up, and the adrenaline rush he felt for driving so fast that a mad cackle escaped from his lips_ \- took over him, and by the time he had drove back to the garage and got off the vehicle, both Daniel and the customer were gaping speechlessly at him.

_._

_._

_._

**_“…….Holy shit.”_ ** _Daniel finally exclaimed, being the first one to break the stupefied silence. “Who taught you such mad driving skills?”_

_He had a feeling if he told him that this is his first time driving a motor-bike, he’d definitely get smacked. So, he shoved all the blame on Harry, because when under suspicion, blame Harry.“Oh, just from a crazy friend of mine.”_

**_“Oh. my God.”_ ** _the customer –a man with dyed green hair, heavy make-up and piercings over his years and lower lip, mumbled as he stared at him in wonder. “You were just so **amazing**.” His eyes sparkled and he asked eagerly, “Can I meet your friend? I hope they can teach me too!” He then clapped his hands excitedly and exclaimed, “Maybe I should ask them to join my circus for stunt-biking!”_

_He imagined Harry stunt-biking in a circus, and resisted the urge to roll on the ground with laughter – **because holy hell, the Master of Death doing death-defying stunts in a circus no less, fuck, that’s hilarious!** -  as he bit the inside of his cheeks a bit too hard to not start cackling right away and somehow spoke out in an even tone, “Yeah, uh- I don’t think she’d agree.”_

_The man looked disappointed for a second, before he regained his enthusiasm and asked, “Well, Why don’t you join our circus?”_

**_Like hell he’d do that._ **

_“Oh, I just remember I need to repair the rear brake-shoes of Mr. Gabriel’s car.” saying this, he quickly fled into the garage, leaving behind a gothic emo swearing to make him join the Circus one day, and his own Boss Daniel who was laughing his ass off at his (mis)fortune._

_._

_._

_._

* * *

 

**IV.**

The bright green haired punk – _Marco_ \- appeared at the garage during his work hours and would nag him for hours to “leave this shitty job and join the circus as a stunt-biker” – _Marco’s words, not his_ \- and Cloud would refuse him every single time while Daniel would just stare at the bickering pair in amusement. Marco wasn’t deterred by his refusal to join his circus, though. He’d just slump dejectedly and go away at the end of the day, and would return back again with enthusiasm the next day with another round of argument –sometimes he even wrote them on a paper and would read them out loud because he wasn’t that good at arguing and had definitely someone helping him with it – _which Cloud had a suspicion as actually Daniel who sneakily helped Marco just for shits and giggles. Damn that old man_

 

So when the annoying pest didn’t turn up for about three days, he was a bit worried – _not that he’d ever speak it out loud, since Daniel would just give him an amused look and coo at him and say that “You’re so cute” and all._

 

.

_._

_._

_The next afternoon, though, a woman rushed into the garage, panting as she asked Daniel, “Where’s Cloud?”_

_Daniel pointed at his figure –who was wiping his grease-stained hands._

_The woman quickly grabbed his arm – **and ignoring his protests she dragged him towards the other end of the town**. “Marco got into an accident. His leg is fractured and he can’t perform tonight.” She admitted to him. “Today’s show is very important –our Ringmaster has even invited the Mayor from the nearby town, and Marco’s stunt-biking was supposed to be the highlight of the show.”_

_“Marco said you know how to perform stunts too…..”She took in a shuddering breath, and turned to him and pleaded, “Can you substitute Marco for today? Please?”_

_He tried to argue that he was a novice, and what if he messed up, but she just retorted, “Marco vouched for your skill, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” hence, without listening much to his protests, she dragged him to her circus. After greeting with her Ringmaster, she grabbed him and left him to the make-up artist, saying “Just work your magic on him.” and from the glint in the other woman’s eyes he was reminded of the neighbor from his childhood home who used to drag him for a make-over and dress-up and shuddered in fear. And yup, the experience was just as horrifying and mentally scarring as it had been in his childhood._

_“Damn, he makes a nice punk.” Marco whistled as he limped towards him with the help of crutches and stared at him- what with the thick eyeliner over his eyes, purple lipstick and especially the beautiful teardrop shaped mark under his eye._

_“He does, doesn’t he?” Daniel laughed as he stared at him in amusement._

_“What’re you doing here?” he squawked at him._

_“I closed the garage early today.” the older man waved off his concerns in a dismissive manner. “After all, I can’t miss my apprentice’s first ever public performance now, can I?” Daniel teased him, to which he scowled._

_Before he could retort a scathing remark, the woman who had dragged him here –Martha- eyed him from top to bottom, and nodded at him in approval. “I’ll get you’re your outfit.” She then walked into the other tent, leaving him with Daniel and Marco, who were eying him appreciatively._

_“Are you done?” he stared at them unimpressed. “I didn’t agree with this.”_

_Daniel rolled his eyes and patted his shoulder. “Come on, now you’re just deceiving yourself. You know you love motor-bikes, more than anything, but you’re still restraining yourself. Why are you even suppressing your own desire when you can just let it go and be free, huh kiddo?”_

_He didn’t reply. Instead, he huffed and he turned away._

_“Hey bro, just do it this once, okay?” Marco mumbled reluctantly. “If you don’t like this, I won’t ask you ever again.” When Marco saw his resolve falter, he pushed on a bit more, “Look, today’s show is important, okay? Just do it for today, I swear I won’t bother you again.”_

_He sighed and reluctantly agreed. **Damn he’s such a pushover.**_

 

(It wasn’t until that he went to get changed into his biking suit that Martha brought in, that Daniel chuckled in amusement and asked Marco, “So Marco, on one hand you’ve already promised to not bother him again, and on the other hand, you’ve crossed your fingers behind your back. Care to explain?”

Marco just gave him a deadpanned look. “I finally got a chance to meet someone with a natural talent at stunt-biking. Like hell I’d let him slip through my fingers.”

“But seriously though, crossing your fingers behind your back as you promise?” Martha shook her head and said, “What are you- a child?”)

.

.

.

 

 

* * *

 

**V.**

Needless to say, the show was a huge success. The moment Skull had entered the arena that was filled with people of all ages, who were screaming and cheering _for him_ , he had almost taken a step back again in flabbergast. If Martha hadn’t pushed him back outside, he’d have really fled. He walked into the arena with faux calmness, trying his best to not tremble and let the anticipated whispers and tensed silence get to him. He thought he’d feel suffocated inside the arena whose seats were filled to the brim with audience, but he was clearly wrong because the feeling that bubbled inside him was definitely not claustrophobia or suffocation. And then when he first sat on his motor-bike and turned it on, he finally realized the feeling he was feeling- _euphoria._

 

So he didn’t hate the cheering of audience. Huh, good to know.

 

He pushed the accelerator to the maximum and suddenly, the bike _flew_. Laughter bubbled from his throat and escaped from his lips in euphoric glee as he controlled the bike semi-consciously, and _cackled_ as he flipped in mid-air without falling down or breaking his own bones. he twisted and turned the bike with perfect control, making the Audience scream positively, and let the amazing sensation wash over himself. When he was on the motorbike –doing twists, and turns, and flips, and letting the bike drive through the ramp and fly in the air and ending the stunt with _him_ doing a one-eighty flip in mid-air _without letting the bike go_ \- he loved _every. second. of. it_. It made him feel as if he could fly, and was a bit closer to sky – _to her………._ Is this how a bird feels when it flies in the vast sky? ……….No wonder birds don’t like to be caged. Who’d want to give up their freedom and this calm elation for a gilded cage?

 

When the show was over, he was greeted with a thunderous applause and cheers from the audience. Too high from the sudden rush of adrenalin and delight, he pulled off the helmet from his head and cackled and waved at his lovely audience, who themselves screamed and responded to his greeting with much more enthusiasm.

 

When he finally walked backstage to get changed out of the leather suit and to get the make-up off his face, he was greeted with congratulations, fist bumps and pats on his back for a “Job well done” from other circus members, and while Marco fanboyed in the background at his utter epic performance, Martha hugged him and invited him to the circus, saying-

 

_“You were absolutely **amazing** out there, Cloud. I’ve never seen anyone looking so much at ease, and still utterly **delighted** while stunt-biking.”_

 

He had gone back to the garage to help out Daniel, more and more times he’d find himself back at the race track where Marco would practice stunt-biking with a few of his pals, and sometimes he’d even join them. One day, Daniel got so fed up with his unsure attitude that he dragged him back to Martha and asked her to just keep him and not let him run away.

_._

_._

_._

_He had smacked the back of his head and said fondly, “You’re such a confused brat. Honestly, why can’t you just agree that you’re not interested in being a mechanic, and would rather spend your time stunt-biking than in garage repairing vehicles? So why don’t you just do what your heart says?”_

_“But you’ll be left here all alone….” he hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he had gotten attached to the old man, and just the thought of leaving him behind sent a pang of longing and sadness inside him._

_The man huffed and smacked the back of his head. “Stop pitying me, brat. besides, don’t think I haven’t noticed you getting restless making yourself stay forcefully in this dingy town.” he gave him a stern look, to which he ducked his head and shuffled his feet –as if he were a child who’s been caught stealing a cookie.  “You aren’t meant to stay at one place, kid. You’re meant to be **free** \- just like the clouds you’re named after.”_

_._

_._

_._

* * *

 

**VI.**

And so, he joined the circus on a six months contract basis. At that time, he wasn’t sure it was a good decision or not, and hence had signed a contract to work with the circus for six months –and in case if he got fed up with stunt-biking, he could always leave after that time period –he had always been fickle like that. So, when – _to his surprise_ \- he still wanted to perform stunt-biking even after the six months had passed, he wondered if he should renew the contract.

 

It was Martha who disagreed, saying that Cloud’s performance was much more incredible than the circus’s shows – _considering most people these days came to their circus only to watch **him** stuntbiking-_and chaining him down to a small town circus when he could do so much more didn’t sit well with her. And so she proposed for him to have his own troop.

 

he was skeptical at first, but Marco jumped for the opportunity. And so, they broke off with the circus, and the three of them founded their own entertaining group. It was quite hard at first –since not many people wanted to sponsor a seemingly no-name stunt-biker- but as he participated in races and shows and started _winning_ , he soon became widely known as the “Genius on the race track” and “the man who even Grim reaper Hated” for his life-threatening stunts and amazing ability to shrug off even worst training accidents and still not lose the zeal to strive harder, there weren’t many people who _wouldn’t_ offer to sponsor him now. Though there were some who wanted to sponsor him for _very different reasons_ , but he digressed.

_._

_._

_._

_Martha frowned. “You need a stage name.”_

_Green eyes flashed in his mind, and he smirked. “I just know the perfect one.”_

 

* * *

**VII.**

Harry’s reaction to his stage persona though, had been _hilarious._

_._

_._

_._

_Green eyes eyed the man standing before her disbelievingly, unable to believe the vision they showed. The man’s purple eyes glimmered with mischief as he watched her flabbergasted reaction, and a chuckle couldn’t help but pass from his purple painted lips. His purple hair looked like a rat’s nest, and the make-up that caked his face made him look like an emo teen – **what with black eyeliner, purple eyeshadow, as well as a teardrop shaped purple mark on his right cheek just under his eye- and his clothes didn’t help dissuading the image –what’s with the purple leather jacket, black pants and boots, and especially the helmet?!**_

_The man puffed his chest in a poor imitation of a peacock and cackled, “Have I stunned you with my awesomeness, Harry?”_

_“You look like a walking, talking fashion disaster.” she deadpanned, to which he couldn’t help but chuckle._

_“Now, you’re just being rude.” he said in a mock-offended tone, to which she just gave him a flat look. “My fashion sense is obviously supreme to yours.” he spoke as he pointedly eyed her dark cloak and hood._

_“I beg to differ.” She said dryly._

_He sniffed haughtily and said, “You obviously don’t understand the amazing fashion of the great Skull-sama!”_

_She tilted her head as soon as she heard his new name. “Skull?” She asked softly, “Why Skull?”_

_He gazed at her, his eyes flashing with emotions at a quick speed before he smiled and said “Who knows?”_

_._

_._

_._

* * *

 

**VIII.**

When he told her of his stage name – _Skull De Mort_ \- the blank faced Harry who usually won’t even speak much to him started laughing her ass off. He didn’t understand what was so damn funny, and was even _offended_ enough that he didn’t talk to her for the next five minutes. It wasn’t until her fill-blown laughter had tone downed to just hysterical giggles that she told him about the Dark Lord who had been after her life just because of some shady prophecy- _the one who had killed her parents before she wasn’t even **two** , and who attempted to get her killed every at least once a year since she joined her Magical school, and was the reason for the death of many of her loved ones, and was just a menace until she fought against him in the War and defeated him._ And apparently, just thinking about how much Lord Voldemort must be rolling in his grave  if he knew that he – _a muggle stuntman_ \- was using the last half of his proud title for entertaining muggles………….. Well, he guess he could see the humor in the situation too.

 

So after being told the history she had with “DeMort” he still kept that name – _especially after being told that_ \- because well, getting a chance equivalent to saying a “fuck you” to Harry’s tormentor who has been dead for centuries? _Like hell he’d let such a golden opportunity slip away!_

 

No one gets to hurt his friend and get away with it.

_No one._

 

* * *

 

**IX.**

He started out slow – _with Martha as his agent and Marco as assistant and sometimes partner_ \- and performed with them, but when his wanderlust hit him again, he started his journey once again, and would often perform every once in a while. In about two years’ time, _Skull deMort_ became a household name, and soon, he was started to be known as _the Immortal Stuntman_. Maybe it’s because of that one time the bike had malfunctioned in the middle of the show, and Skull fell from quite a height in midst of a flip in mid-air – _which would’ve killed anyone else_ \- but landed safely with only a few cuts and broken bones, Since then, he had gotten the title of _‘the Immortal Stuntman_ ” and “ _the Man whom even the Grim Reaper hated”._

 

Ironic, really, since Harry quite liked him enough that she’d often laugh her ass off after hearing about his shenanigans and training accidents – _which were the reason these days he often died and appeared in her train station_ \- and would tease him for being “the Immortal stuntman”.

 

His life stayed peaceful for a few more years – _well, as peaceful as life can get for someone who dies as often as he changes towns-_ and  he was happier than he had ever been.

 

And then Skull was invited to the dubious meeting of **_I Prescelti Sette_** by an equally shady man with questionable fashion sense – _quite ironic, especially coming from Skull_ , and everything changed.

 

_._

_._

_._

_Skull grinned eagerly as he exchanged high-fives and fist bumps with his fellow coworkers as they retired for the night after the last show for the day. After saying good-bye to his friends and fellow coworkers, he walked back to his cabin, exhausted but still content grin on his face. Though the grin didn’t last long when he entered his cabin and felt his instincts hiss in apprehension, and he couldn’t help but narrow his purple eyes and scan the insides of his cabin. Everything was the same as it had been when he had left it that way before he was off to work for today- **except for the man with a checkered mask sitting on his purple coach and sipping tea as if he wasn’t trespassing on someone else’s property**._

_For some reason, Skull didn’t think this man was like those occasional crazy, stalker fans whom he had to deal with every once in a while, who in the end get kicked out by Marco for bothering skull and intruding in his private space, well, if Skull didn’t hit them first – **because no one encroaches on his personal space** (his territory **)** **and gets away with it. Well, except Harry**. She’s exceptions to many of his things. Huh, he hadn’t thought of that before, at least, not too deeply. Maybe there’s something more at play than his faint crush on her._

_He had a feeling that if he didn’t play it right this man might even annihilate him. Sure, he had experience fighting (especially since the members of his troop were a rowdy bunch who brawled for the silliest of things and needed to be detained **physically** , which always led to Skull himself joining their rambunctious brawls to stop the morons before either the collateral damage was too much or before Martha appears. None of which he liked since in the first case the repair money goes out from his pocket, and in the second case he always end up being scolded along with the rest of the morons, and damn can Martha deafen him with her boring lectures.) but he had a feeling that he’d be so outclassed in this fight that it won’t even be funny. And then he’d die again, and Harry would laugh at him –but not before kicking this creep’s ass, and his too, just for the heck of it._

_So –more for his sake and less for the shady masked guy’s- Skull decided to play the fool as he first blinked dumbfounded at the men with checkered hat and mask and then tilted his head and asked, “Who are you?” Without waiting for his answer, he let his eyes sparkle –as if a light bulb just seemingly lit up in his head from a treacherous idea- and he lightly slammed his fist on his palm and said in that annoying tone that always frustrated Martha to death and amused Marco to no end- “Ah, you must be another fan of the great Skull-sama!” He nodded to himself and muttered, “You must’ve wandered after the show and got lost. No worries though the amazingly awesome Skull-sama will send you your way!” Skull exclaimed cheerily._

_The man’s dark eyes eyed him from his mask distantly, his gaze never looking underneath the metaphorical mask he wore as **“Skull”** before those he did not trust and nodded as he spoke, “Yes, you’d do quite perfectly.”_

_For some strange reason, those words sent a chill down his spine._

_Still acting oblivious, Skull tapped his chin and tilted his head and grinned. “Oh, I see, you want the great Skull-sama’s autograph, right? Of course the amazing me will give you his fantabulous autograph, after all, it’s rare to see such dedicated fans of mine!” Skull cheered and pulled out a pen and asked, “Where do you want me to sign? On some paper? Or on your coat?” His eyes brightened as he stared at his hat and exclaimed, “Oh, your hat would do too!”_

_To his disappointment, the man didn’t react to his annoyingly foolish ramblings. He was as apathetic as Harry on her worst days, which made Skull falter. The man simply leaned a bit forward and shook his head, “Ah, you’ve misunderstood, I’m here for a very different reason, Mr. Skull.” His dark eyes glinted from behind the checkered mask, and Skull resisted the urge to step back as his own flames bristled inside him in warning. “I’m here with a job offer for you.”_

_Skull was taken aback by his words. “A job offer?” he repeated after him slowly, and then shook his head – **still acting like an annoying fool-** as he said, “Ah, why didn’t you say so earlier! Well,” he scratched his head and said sheepishly, “If you want the great Skull-sama to perform for you, you should contact Martha first though! She’s my agent and she’d **definitely** make an appointment for you in our **very packed schedule** if I put in a good word for you.”_

_The man tilted his head to the side and spoke, “I do not have any business with your agent.” He then pulled out a gold-plaited envelope and placed it on the table and tapped it gently as he spoke, “I’m here to invite you to the meeting of **I Prescelti Sette**.”_

_Saying this, he vanished before Skull’s very eyes –as if he hadn’t just been sitting lazily on his purple coach as if he owned it and invited Skull to some creepy pow-wow- making Skull snap his head around the room with wide eyes and exasperated wails of “ **Ghost!”**_

_He didn’t let down his mask until his own flames settled down._

_“Who the hell was he? How did he enter my cabin-I clearly remember I had locked it earlier…..” Skull mumbled as he scowled and warily eyed the couch the man had been sitting on. A thought occurred in his mind and he wondered out loud, “Was he like harry? A witch?” he paused and smacked his forehead in exasperation, “Wait, isn’t he a male, though? that’d make him a wizard, right?!” he growled in frustration and tugged his already messed purple hair a bit too harshly, “AHHHHHHHHHH! I’m so confused!”_

_Sighing, he collapsed on his bed and stared dully at the ceiling of his cabin as he mumbled, “What should I do, Harry…………?”_

_._

_._

_._

 


	2. It all ended with a Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The many times Skull met the Mistress of Death via death, and one time he didn’t.

**X.**

This was a _bad_ idea. A really, _really_ _bad_ idea. Harry would kill him if she knew that he was going to a shady meeting without any prior knowledge of what it is about – _she’s all about “Constant Vigilance” whenever she hears about Skull doing something equally stupid without thinking things through_ \- and the fact that he had been invited to this meeting by an equally skeptical – _but dangerous_ \- individual didn’t help at all. His conscience – _that strangely sounded like Harry_ \- was scolding him for being utterly stupid, and that he’ll regret it.

 

But honestly, he was getting curious. He had never gotten an invitation like this. Besides, the envelope had been _gold_ -plated. _Pure Gold_.

 

Like- _what the fuck?!_ Who in their right mind would send someone a gold-plated invitation letter? What is this- _the seventeenth century?_ Besides, even if someone was rich and vain enough to send gold-plated invitations, why would they send _Skull_ one? He was a Stuntman, and even if he was one of the best – _if not **the** best_\- of his field, why would any rich snob send _him_ an invitation? That didn’t make any sense!

 

The Man-in-the-Iron-Hat had also said that the meeting was of **_I Prescelti Sette_**. If Skull isn’t wrong, then that is Italian for _“the Strongest Seven”_. But the strongest of what? The strongest fighters? Wait, no, he invited Skull too for that shady pow-wow, and even if Skull was proud of his amazing physical strength, he knew it wasn’t anything worth against trained fighters – _to say nothing of the strongest fighters in the world_. So, nope. That’s not it.

_Then what did he mean? What Strongest Seven?_

 

Skull did not know. But he was curious. So, _so_ curious. And that is why he grabbed the gold-plaited invitation and made his way to the meeting even when his instincts hissed at him that _“You’re being an idiot”_ , as well as _“You’ll regret it forever”_. Well, good thing he has learned to ignore the voice in his head.

(He should’ve known better. After all, curiosity killed the cat.)

_._

_._

_._

_Skull was late. It wasn’t his fault that the directions to this place were **really** tricky. He had asked around the neighborhood **thrice** before he stumbled upon the huge gates of the mansion that had appeared before him from seemingly nowhere –well, not until he had flashed is flames in distress and had thought of killing himself just so he could meet Harry and rant to her about it._

_He had walked into the mansion, unsure if he really was in the right place or not. After showing a servant the invitation card, he followed him through various hallways and was led into a posh room. Walking into the room, he realized that there were six people already sitting around a round table, and only one seat was left vacant._

_Skull chuckled nervously as the other six eyed him with curiosity and unimpressive looks as he made his way to the only vacant seat between a green haired man - **wearing what looked like a doctor’s coat** \- and a hooded figure with dark blue tattoos on his – **her? he couldn’t tell their gender** -  cheeks in shape of upturned triangles._

_The green haired woman in pretty white dress and poofy hat – **who happened to be pregnant, if he judged correctly from her bulging stomach** \- smiled at him reassuringly and cleared her throat and addressed to the other six people sitting before her. “Hello everyone. Welcome to the meeting of **I Prescelti Sette**. Thank you for coming here on such a short notice.”_

_The man in a fancy suit and orange stripped fedora hat drawled out with narrowed eyes that sent a shiver down his spine – **and not a good kind too** , “Where is Checker Face?”_

_The woman shook her head and said softly, “I’m afraid he isn’t here. I was just given some instructions  regarding our future jobs and missions.” the hooded figure wanted to ask her something, but the woman cut them off with an exasperated look, “The prices for the missions can be negotiated, Viper-san.”_

_The hooded figure – **Viper, he supposed** \- nodded reluctantly._

_Skull was puzzled. We couldn’t make head or tail of what they were talking about. Who’s Checker face? Are they calling the weirdo in checkered mask and Iron hat that? And what’s with missions and jobs? He really didn’t understand. What was going on?_

_“Let us start with introductions.” The woman once again spoke with a kind smile as she introduced herself. “My name is Luce, and I am the Boss of Giglio-Nero famiglia. I am a Sky.”_

_She then glanced towards her right, where a man in red Chinese robes and long braid smiled serenely and said, “I am Fon –a Storm from Triads.”_

_“I guess I’m next.” The blue haired woman sighed as she folded her arms and spoke gruffly. “I am Lal Mirch–a Military Officer from COMSUBIN. I am a Rain.”_

_“Lightning.” The green haired man pushed his glasses up a bit and curtly, “My name is Verde and I am a scientist.”_

_“Chaos.” the man in the fedora spoke. “I am Reborn- a Sun. And as you might know, I’m the World’s Greatest Hitman.” He said with a smirk on his face._

_The hooded figure sitting next to Skull sighed and said, “Mou, I’m Viper –an Information Broker. I am a Mist.”_

_Well, he guessed it was nice that everyone introduced themselves and their jobs – **he might’ve blanched when he heard Reborn’s occupation-** but he really didn’t understand why they were talking about weather?! Was this supposed to be some sort of code or inside joke that Skull wasn’t privy to?_

_There was a pause, and then everyone turned to stare at Skull. He blinked at them, and then eeped when he realized that he was the only one who hadn’t introduced himself. **Smooth Skull, real smooth.**_

_“Ah, I’m Skull DeMort- the Immortal Stuntman!” Skull exclaimed as donned on that ridiculously annoying stage persona of his, and internally cackled when almost all of them flinched at his loud voice. “You can call me the great Skull-sama if you like!” he boasted._

_They waited for a few moments, before Viper spoke impatiently, “That’s it?”_

_Skull stared at the hooded figure in confusion, “Uh, yeah, what more do you want to hear from me?”_

_The others stared at him as if he was an idiot._

_“I think he’s a Cloud- even if he doesn’t seem like one.” Verde said dismissively, “Since that’s the only one missing from our bunch.”_

_Fon nodded. “Makes sense.”_

_Skull blinked. Cloud? What the hell are they on about?_

_Surely, they don’t mean about those strange violet flames of his right? Cloud Flames?_

_“Uh…..what are you talking about?” Skull asked uneasily._

_The eyes of everyone snapped to him. “You mean you don’t know?” Lal asked incredulously._

_“Don’t know what?” he blurted out in frustration.”_

_They all shared a look._

_Fon sighed. “Oh boy, it’s going to be a **long** talk.”_

_._

_._

_._

* * *

 

**XI.**

Apparently, the Gods above decided that Skull’s life wasn’t messy enough – _what with his self-proclaimed ‘Immortal’ status and the regular visits he paid to the Master of Death herself_ \- since they threw another curve-ball to him. Because apparently, dying every often wasn’t enough to spice up his life that they had to toss Mafia in his life too.

 

Yup, you read it correct. Because apparently, the meeting he had been invited to was for the Strongest Seven people in _Mafia._

 

As if being haunted by a supposed immortal witch – _who happens to be the Master of Death_ \- and having the inability to die wasn’t enough, that now he has to deal with shit like _Mafia_ too. What is his life – _some soap opera?!_

 

(………He swore it’s all Harry’s fault. Because of course it is. _Damn Harry and her Potter luck that had somehow rubbed off on him._ Otherwise how else would anyone explain why was he in this situation if not for her legendary shitty luck?)

 

Finding that his newest teammates – _or should he call them friends? Acquaintances? Companions? Meh, who cares?!_ -  were – _mostly_ \- Mafioso was one thing, finding that all of them could use the mysterious Flames that he and Harry too had was another. And turns out, the individuals selected for the **_I Prescelti Sette_** was on the basis of these mysterious Flames. Since Skull possessed the rare Cloud Flames – _and quite potent ones too_ -he too had been selected among these bunch of deadly Mafioso.

(He called Bullshit. He thought Checker Face just wanted to troll with him by throwing an innocent, clueless civilian like him among a bunch of bloodthirsty Mafioso like a lamb for slaughter.

He was sure somewhere Harry’s Potter luck also played a role in his misery.)

 

All this time he thought that either there was some sort of inside joke going on with his newest acquaintances or that they were all suffering from craziness of a similar brand – _hey, he’s friends with Harriel Potter, of course he knows what different brands of crazies is out there in the world(s)_ \- but turns out that all those talks about Weather wasn’t them going crazy or making fun of him. They were actually referring to the Seven Fames of the Sky, that consist of Sun (Activation), Lightning (Hardening), Rain (Tranquility), Storm (Disintegration), Mist, (Construction), Cloud (Propagation) and Sky (Harmony) –each one showing a respective color of the Rainbow.

 

He was still wrapping his mind around Flames and shit.

(As if magic wasn’t weird enough.)

 

…………Harry had told him a few years ago that he had Cloud Flames, but she never elaborated about them, and judging by the Orange Flames she spouted every once in a while, he guess she has Sky Flames. He wondered why she hadn’t told him about Flames in detail. He was a little disappointed that it wasn’t his friend who told him such crucial information first, and instead, some outsiders had to explain it to him. It was as much disappointing as it was humiliating. Well, he guess he didn’t know about it earlier because of Omerta  – _and if Viper’s words are to be believed, then there’s also the scary mafia police who doesn’t let Mafioso expose any info about flames to civilians which makes sense, because the world would’ve gone really drastic changes if everyone knew about Flames_ \- but he was sure Omerta doesn’t apply to Harry, because one- she wasn’t a Mafioso, and two- he didn’t think the mafia police have it in them to arrest the _Master of Death._ So it doesn’t excuse Harry’s negligence to not tell him about Flames.

 

But then he’d think of how apathetic Harry actually is, of how it took him _years_ to make her open up and share her past with him. There was still so much he didn’t know about his friend. It’s a miracle she’s even sharing a piece of her past with him.

 

Maybe Harry hadn’t meant to keep him in dark. Maybe she just didn’t think it was important to inform him more about his Flames. Just like how she had been dismissive about her magic – _as if using magic was an everyday occurrence for any normal person._

(…………….Actually, that does sound like her. He bet his fortune that she definitely hadn’t thought it important enough to explain him basic facts about Flames.)

 

….And now he’s digressing. He had been ranting about his newest _literal_ partner-in-crimes, right? Well, let’s get back to it, then.

 

First is _Luce_ of Giglio-Nero family. The Sky of their rag-tag team of misfits. Their _Leader_. Who’d even believe that the pregnant woman with warm eyes and a kind smile would be the Boss of one of the most prominent families of the Mafia World? Well, he hadn’t, until he met her that is. He didn’t know Luce could be terrifying, until she smiled that sweet smile – _that looked as if it were full of venom-_ at them when they had been a bit too rowdy in their brawl, freezing every single one of them, and then she had each one of them pay one-sixth of the total damage – _and she even made that miser, Viper, pay for the damage repairs. What a terrifying woman._  

 

Then there is Fon who possesses Storm Flames. Fon worked with Triads, and was one of the higher ranking members of one of their most powerful Sect. The Chinese man had really good looks – _what with pale skin, dark eyes and hair that’s tied in a long braid, and the muscles hidden underneath that red Chinese robe only added to his good looks-_ and the fact that his behavior was really likable – _so polite and formal_ \- earned him brownie points from Skull. Though he hadn’t realized that Fon’s calm exterior was a mask – _just like his Skull-sama persona was on the stage_ \- that usually shattered when he was angered, and then the calm martial artist would transform into something akin to Ashura. _Hell hath no fury like Fon pissed-_ he’d always keep that motto in mind. _Always_. He really understood why Viper once called him the ‘Eye of the storm.’

 

The one who used Rain Flames- Lal Mirch, was one of the trigger-happy idiot from the group. Sure, the woman was a smart battle strategist, and was a force to reckon with when handed a rifle, but damn was she an absolute torturer in name of ‘training’.  She was always dragging him to the Training Room to get his abilities up to speed so that _“he won’t drag them down during missions” –or so she said_ \- and he swore that if he didn’t have his Cloud Flames he’d have been dead a thousand time by now by Lal’s hands alone. Sometimes, she’d even drag her “Useless Pupil” – _What was his name again? Ah, it was Colonello_ \- as well as him with her for training, and he’d have been sympathetic with his fellow victim’s plight if that damn blonde wasn’t make goo-goo eyes at his instructor. Sometimes Skull wondered if that loud blonde was a masochist – _because how can someone suffer such abuse in form of “training” and still like the person hauling abuse on them? If that isn’t masochism, then what is?_

 

Reborn –well, that man is a class of his own. The World’s Greatest Hitman indeed. With a single sun flames infused bullet, he can even destroy an army – _he knew this because he had literally watched that man during work, and boy is that a sight to see_. If Fon is attractive, then Reborn is honest-to-god sex-on-legs – _according to women and some men, that is_. And well, Skull can admit that they’re somewhat right. Pale skin, dark eyes, dark spiky hair with curly sideburns –and to top it off the man even wears sophisticated suit and an orange-stripped fedora hat and walked with the grace of a noble. Now if only his attitude was like that of Fon…… Sure, Reborn was polite and totally gentlemanly towards woman – _and a huge flirt too_ \- but damn was he a dick to anyone who he thought was beneath him. And Skull being the only civilian among the bunch of dangerous Mafioso happened to be in the category in which Reborn deemed him as a bug who wasn’t worth his time.

 

Verde was known as the “Second Coming of Da Vinci”. The scientist was a Genius –and his true passion is Science. He believed that everything in this world happened due to a reason, and ever reason can be realized with the help of Science.  He only joined the **_I Precelti Sette_** because he had accidently activated his Lightning Flames during an experiment and was curious about them. He wanted to derive a scientific explanation about whys’ and hows’ of dying Will flames of the Sky. Well, when Verde was in his mad-doctor mode, Skull was smart enough to steer clear of him. He didn’t want to be poked and prodded by Verde to see if he’s really immortal or not- _thank you very much._

 

Viper –the Mist of their group- was the best Information Broker in the Cosa Nostra. And they weren’t behind extortion and threatening – _and even stealing_ \- if it concerns money. Skull never thought he’d meet someone as money obsessed as Viper in his whole life. That damn miser had a look of agony on their face when they were once buying a candy – _can you believe it?!_ And the fact that they charge money for the silliest things would’ve been really amusing for him if he wasn’t the victim of this illegal extortion most of the time. Viper may be a money-obsessed coward who’d flee faster than anyone could even snap their fingers during a fight, but Skull had to grudgingly admit that Viper was an amazing illusionist, and the fact that they had a bit of psychic powers – _telekinises_ \- that only enhanced their Mist-infused illusions only added to their amazingness.

 

They were all unique and were amazing people on their own. But _together?_ Man, they were a disaster waiting to happen. Truthfully they made a dysfunctional team and each one of them is crazier than other that it’s not even funny anymore.

 

He wondered if Checker Face had been bat-shit drunk when he gathered them together for the **_I Prescelti Sette_**. Because honestly, he can’t see this dysfunctional team getting through a mission without causing utter _chaos_.

 

* * *

 

**XII.**

If someone had told Skull a year ago that he’d one day meet some of the most powerful people in mafia and even be buddies with them, he’d have laughed in their faces and would’ve referred them to the nearest mental hospital. Well, now though if he doesn’t hear gunshots and explosions and silly arguments in the background at least once a day, he would start wondering if the really world is ending. His newest friends were –after all, a headache and a half on their own.

 

He just _knew_ Harry would love them all if she ever meets them– _just because their penchant for trouble is even comparable to her Potter Luck._

_._

_._

_._

_“So Skull, what do you do for a living?” Lal asked curiously a few days after they started cohabitating as per the contract they had signed during their first meeting. She eyed his make-up and clothes and asked skeptically, “I mean, are you a model or something? Or maybe an actor?”_

_Reborn snorted as he took a sip of his espresso and muttered, “He’d make a horrible actor.”_

_Luce gave him a stern look. “That’s quite rude, Reborn.”_

_Reborn resisted the urge to roll his eyes and to just shoot the offender who dared to call him rude by reminding himself that Luce was a woman –and a pregnant one to boot. And Reborn wasn’t low enough to attack a defenseless pregnant woman._

_“Ah, you’re wrong. I’m not an actor.” Skull said with a grin and pointed to himself, “I’m actually a Stunt-man.”_

_“Well, I remember you said that in your first meeting,” Fon said, “You said you’re the ‘Immortal Stuntman’, right?”_

_Skull’s grin brightened and he nodded vigorously._

_Verde frowned. “I call bullshit.” he retorted. “How can someone be immortal?”_

_Luce sighed in exasperation. “It’s just a title, Verde.”_

_“Yeah, no need to get your knickers in a twist.” Lal agreed._

_This time, it was Skull who frowned. “It’s not just a title. I **am** Immortal.”_

_This time, the others too gave him an incredulous look._

_“Mou, there go goes again, spouting nonsense like that.” Viper mumbled exasperatedly._

_“He’s delusional.” Verde declared._

_Reborn taunted, “And he still wonders why I call him “lackey”. Someone who only knows how to boast can never amount to anything.”_

_“But I’m not lying.” Skull insisted._

_“Sure, sure.” Fon nodded in an appeasing tone, as if he was dealing with a child, and Skull was definitely **not** a child –thank you very much._

_“What would it take to make you believe I’m telling the truth!” he whined under his breath when he saw how the others ignored his claims of Immortality. Well, it’s not like he’s lying. He can’t die anyways, thanks to his Cloud Flames. And even if he **did** die, then Harry would just snatch back his soul from Death and shove it right back in his body –he was sure of it. That’s why he was confident enough to claim immortality since he had even the Master of Death haunting him like a Guardian Angel!_

_Now if only his companions-slash-friends believe him….._

_._

_._

_._

_“Go, go, go!” Lal urged as soon as she dove into the car and slammed the door shut._

_“On it!” Skull replied as he pushed the accelerator with his foot, and suddenly the car **flew**. His mind cleared as he felt the car’s thrum as it picked up speed and he let his flames wash over him in content. He unconsciously mapped at least five escape routes in his mind, and added three more risky ones if things go FUBAR. He twisted and turned the car with such expertise, that the bullets aimed at their vehicle never reached its target. The others jolted in their seats and often slammed into each other as he swerved and turned the car at sharp turns, making the others curse._

_“Fuck!” Lal groaned as her head bumped into the roof of the car during a particularly nasty turn. “He wasn’t kidding when he said he’s a stuntman!”_

_“Shoot now, Complain later.” Reborn hissed as he threw her his spare gun so she could do something about their pursuers, and then he glared at Verde – **the effect was somewhat dampened since he was squashed against the car’s door because Skull was making the car spin** \- and ordered, “And do something before their bullets tear holes through our vehicle!”_

_Lal nodded as she pulled down the window a bit and started shooting behind at their pursuers, while Verde just shot the hitman a glare before he let out  a pulse of Lightning Flames and a green barrier shimmered around their car, enveloping it protectively._

_Reborn then turned to Viper and said, “And you- go distract the pursuers with your illusions or something!”_

_“Why should I?” Viper huffed in annoyance._

_“Well, since **you** couldn’t control your greed and just **had to** put your grubby hands on their antique necklace worth **trillions –disregarding the fact that stealing their heirloom was not our mission** \- and that makes it **your** fault that we are being chased. So take some responsibility of your actions and help the fuck out, or God help me **I’ll destroy you.”** Reborn glowered at them, his patience finally snapping at the Mist’s tantrum._

_Viper just pouted sullenly, but did as they were told since Fantasma –in it’s toad form-disappeared in a puff of indigo flames from his perch on their shoulder, and appeared outside as a gigantic snake, and hissed as it gobbled two of the five chasing cars in it’s mouth._

_“How’s Fon?” Skull asked distractedly as he rotated the steering wheel to the side, and narrowly escaped the grenade that had been thrown at the very direction he had just been driving at._

_Reborn sent a another wave of Sun flames into the gaping, bleeding wound on Fon’s stomach – **who had been rendered unconscious by a rough karate chop to the head so as his Storm Flames could stop messing with Reborn’s  Sun flames in their healing**. “The wound isn’t too bad, and now that his own flames aren’t interfering with the healing, I can take care of it.” the hitman grunted._

_“You’re taking an awful lot of time, though.” Verde pointed out as he pushed up his glasses and concentrated on the barrier surrounding their car._

_“I’m not a medic!” Reborn snapped.  “So don’t expect me to know how healing works! Also, it’d be better if **someone** wasn’t driving this recklessly and jostling the patient with his maniac driving.” Reborn said as he glared pointedly at Skull._

_Skull rolled his eyes and complained, “How is it my fault if you’re an incompetent medic, Reborn-sempai?!”_

_Reborn smashed the back of Skull’s head with a Leon-hammer in annoyance, making Skull yelp in pain and almost smack onto the dashboard. The car went out of control for a moment –and considering the fact that Skull had been driving the car in a tilted position on a bridge, with the weight of the whole vehicle supported by only two left tyres,  it was anyone’s guess that the car was going to be shoved off the bridge the next second. A scream left Lal’s lips, Verde’s eyes widened in fear and even **Viper** yelped as the car almost jumped off the bridge-_

_- **only to be swerved back on the bridge by a grinning Skull as he turned the steering wheel to the side.**_

****

_“Oi Reborn, don’t distract the driver, you ass!” Lal cursed the hitman, who just shrugged off her comments. “You could’ve gotten us killed!”_

_“Mou, I’ll cut off thirty percent from your paycheck for this stunt of yours.” Viper threatened the Sun._

_Verde patted his chest, feeling his heart thundering against his ribs and murmured, “All this is so not good for my heart.” he sighed, “Thank goodness Luce didn’t come with us for this mission. If she had, then Skull and Reborn would’ve had made her go into premature labor by now.”_

_Skull scoffed. “Oh come on, we’re not that bad.” Skull insisted._

_“I beg to differ.” the other three deadpanned in unison._

_._

_._

_._

_Skull yawned one morning as he stumbled into the hall and rubbed his eyes. He had been awake till late night, discussing with Martha and Marco about postponing the next show because it coincided with the date of their next mission (they just thought that he had joined some sort of cult and was quite enamored with it, and well, they weren’t **that** far off from the truth – **if you think of mafia as a cult, that is**.) and slept at about five this morning. So, by the time he walked into the hall, everyone was awake. He blinked as he saw Colonello in the hall, helping Lal out with her paperwork – **must be some COMSUBIN work or something.**_

_“Good morning everyone.” he mumbled as he stumbled into the kitchen for his morning dose of coffee – **and it wasn’t anything as disgusting as the Espresso Reborn preferred** (that thing should be **banned** so as not to taint anyone’s tongue with it’s disgusting taste)\- and it wasn’t until he sat on a chair and took a sip of his coffee that he realized that the hall was a bit **too** silent to be normal. He blinked and turned to look at them, only find the others staring at him – **more like his face** \- with dumbfounded looks._

_“What?” He asked defensively, not liking the way they were staring at his face. He patted his cheek and wondered if his make-up was messed or something? Did he forget to wipe-off his makeup last night?_

_“Oh. My. God.” Lal muttered under her breath, and when Skull’s eyes glanced at her, her cheeks flushed a bit as she averted her eyes._

_Luce squealed as she giggled and exclaimed, “You’re so cute, Skull!”_

_“Uh, thanks?” he mumbled uncertainly, unsure of why they were reacting so extremely._

_“Well, well,” Reborn smirked as his eyes flashed with something – **and he belatedly realized that it was amusement** \- as he purred, “I didn’t know that our lackey was hiding such a **charming** face under all that heavy make-up.”_

_…….What?!_

_“Though who knows why he would hide his attractive face under all that filthy make-up.” Fon said with a shrug as he eyed Skull appreciatively._

**_What._ **

_“A mystery for another day, I guess.” Verde spoke as hummed under his breath._

_“But Gods is he **hot**.” Colonello whistled as he agreed with others._

**_WHAT._ **

_Forgetting his coffee for now, Skull rushed towards the reflective glass of the window in the hall, and squeaked when he saw his reflection. Apparently, he had wiped off his make-up last night. But, turns out, he had forgotten to put it on this morning, revealing his pale skin, glittering violet eyes and glistening plump lips on his feminine looking face. His reputation as a manly stuntman will be doomed if anyone knew how he really looked like underneath all the make-up._

_“Oh crap!” Skull exclaimed as he rushed towards his room, but not before turning to his fellow companions and threatening them with a “not a word of this to **anyone.** ” before he made his way to his room and shut his door._

_A comfortable silence surrounded the others as they shared a look._

_“So…” Reborn asked in amusement as he glanced at their resident Mist and asked, “Did you get the picture of his pretty face or not?”_

_“Who do you take me for?” Viper said in a mocking tone as they smirked and tapped the camera in their lap._

_The others just chuckled at Viper’s words._

_“Give me one too, then.” Lal said. Before Viper could argue, she interrupted her with a curt, “We can negotiate the prices.” to which the miser reluctantly agreed._

_“I want one too, kora!” Colonello exclaimed in amusement._

_“Me too.” Luce giggled._

_“I guess I’ll take one.” Verde said as he coughed nonchalantly._

_“I don’t mind taking one too.” Fon smiled._

_Reborn sighed and drawled out, “You’re all so horrible. Lackey would be so pissed.”_

_“So you don’t want one?” Viper said, unimpressed._

_Reborn just smirked at them “When did I ever say that?”_

_._

_._

_._

They were all amazing people on their own who were the best in their own field of occupation. But when grouped together those mature individuals would squabble like five year old brats- _with a penchant for gunshots and explosions and **chaos** in general_. Gods, they were just so _insufferable_.

(He wouldn’t have them any other way.)

* * *

 

**XIII.**

His life had changed after that meeting of **I Prescelti Sette**. Sure, he got acquainted with these idiots – _whom he grudgingly accepted as friends after months of working together_ \- who were all amazing in their own way, and got to make many memorable memories with them. But not everything was sunshine and daisies in his life. Especially when he informed Harry of the newest mess he found himself in.

 

The first time Skull appeared in the train station with a bullet wound, Harry had freaked out.

_._

_._

_._

_Skull gasped in pain as the bullet wound over his abdomen **hurthurthurthurthURTHURT-**_

_Someone gently let their fingers run through his hair and hummed a soothing tune under their breath, making Skull’s trembling body relax as the black spots in his vision disappeared and he inhaled deep breaths, flooding his lungs with sweet, merciful air – **he hadn’t even realized he had been having a panic attack.** The pain was still there, but it was manageable now. He blearily opened his eyes and was stunned to find Harry looming over him in concern, and he belatedly realized that his head was in Harry’s lap. It took him another two minutes to realize that since she was hovering right above his head, he could **see** her face. Her whole face, and not just a few glimpses of her eyes and chin._

_His breathing hitched – **and not entirely due to pain** \- when he saw her facial features. And by Gods was she beautiful. A perfectly oval face, doe like green eyes that were filled with worry for **him** , a small button nose, and luscious pink lips adorned her face. There was a faded lightning bolt scar on her forehead that was barely hidden by her red bangs that framed her pretty face._

_Oh god, he’s in love. Definitely._

_Another jolt of pain snapped him out of his daze, making him wince._

_“Skull,” she spoke, her eyes glanced at his bleeding wound – **and his Cloud Flames flared to multiply his blood vessels and deal with the wound to the best of their ability, but the bullet stuck in his muscles hindered his healing** \- and she pursued her lips. “Who did this to you?”_

_“It’s nothing.” He said weakly in a dismissive manner as he tried to get off her lap, but her stern expression made her falter._

_“It’s not **nothing**.” She spoke sternly to him._

_“Why does it matter? I die all the time anyways!”  He retorted, and winced when she just glared at his impulsive comment._

_“Yes, but most of the times you die because of your own stupidity or your clumsiness. **This** isn’t one of those times, Skull. It’s a bullet wound.” She pointed at the wound on his abdomen. “Someone **hurt** you.” She said in a distressed tone. “Who was it? And why would they do that?”_

_“It’s nothing.” He mumbled and groaned again as the wound once again pulsed in pain. He eyed the pool of blood that was spreading beneath him and staining Harry’s robes – **not that the stain would be actually visible since her robes were pitch black** \- and said, “J-Just drop it, please.”_

_She pursued her lips in a thin lie, but didn’t press on the matter anymore, for which he was relieved. She hovered her hand above his wound, and accioed out the bullet stuck in his flesh. When the bullet was summoned out of his abdomen, she then chanted a few healing spells to speed-up his healing._

_“I won’t ask.” she said when he was almost fully healed. “But I hope you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”_

_He was so glad that she didn’t push for answers. After all, how could he just tell her that he got himself involved in some mafia cult - **along with some of the most insane people in the world** \- in a moment of stupidity?_

_._

_._

_._

_A few days later, he once again appeared in the train station, bleeding on it’s pristine floor as his intestine spilling out from the gaping wound in his stomach, and a slash – **that was definitely from a sword** \- on his throat that had cut even through his wind-pipe – **making him unable to breath**. Harry quickly rushed towards him and started healing him with her magic. When wandless magic wasn’t quick enough for the healing, she pulled out the Elder wand and patched him up in record time._

_“Oh Skull…..” the desperation and worry laced in her voice made him feel like a douche bag, “What are you getting yourself into?”_

_._

_._

_._

For the next few months he met Harry in her train station whenever he was on the brink of death due to the mission or a training-session-gone-wrong. Harry never asked him about them again, she’d just heal him up with her magic and send him back to the world of living – _though her eyes seemed to plead him to tell him why he was getting hurt again and again_. She wanted to know what he had gotten himself into this time. Why did he always appear in her plane littered with bruises, bullet wounds and injuries from other weapons like daggers, swords, etc? What was he doing that killed him almost every other day? She didn’t know.

 

He himself didn’t know why he was hiding it from her. He knew that if she wanted, she could just know all his affairs with a snap of her fingers with her magic – _or by simply asking Death about it_. But she didn’t, because she respected his privacy.

 

(Sometimes, he really wondered what he did in his previous life to get someone as amazing as her as his friend)

 

Maybe he didn’t want to tell her because he was afraid of her reaction. That she would be disappointed with him, that she would hate him for joining mafia – _the dark side_ \- and doing missions that were not-exactly legal, with people were known to be the most ruthless and dangerous Mafioso in the history of _Cosa Nostra_.

 

Well, it’d be better if he left that rag-tag group of criminals –but for some reason, he got along with them so well, he felt like he finally belonged and he didn’t want to lose what he had right now. He also didn’t want Harry to hate him, or worse, _leave_ him.

_Does it make him an asshole because he was selfish enough to want both?_

 

But in the end, all it took was a look into Harry’s green eyes – _that flashed with equal amounts of concern, pain and betrayal_ \- that made him spill his secrets to her.

 

……….Her reaction had been very different from the one he had anticipated.

_._

_._

_._

_“Mafia.” Harry said flatly, as she stared at Skull, not hiding her face under the hoodie for once – **she said it was counter-productive since he already knew how she looked like since his visit months ago, and hence there was no reason for her to hide her face now** (though why she hid her pretty face under the hood in the first place was a mystery)\- now that’d he’d complain about it. “Bloody hell! Of all the mess you could get into, you chose **mafia.** ”_

_He just rubbed the back of his head sheepishly._

_She groaned. “Oh Merlin, you’re a disaster-magnet, Skull. And I thought **I** was worse in my school days.”_

_“You’re taking it quite well.” he commented offhandedly as he stared at her._

_She rolled her eyes. “Well, I’ve seen many, **many** things over the eons I had spent as Master of Death. A bit of blood and gore –with a sprinkle of cruelty- that is Mafia won’t make me back away from you, you know.” When she saw his flabbergasted look, her lips twitched upwards in a smile as she smacked the back of his head fondly, “What? You thought I’d be pissed at you or something? Come on, I’m not **that** bigoted.”_

_The spark in her green eyes dimmed as she murmured, “I’ve done far worse things over the centuries as the Master of Death than you could ever do in a lifetime, anyway.”_

_“So….. you don’t hate me?” He asked,  a bit confused and unsure._

_“Oh Skull,” She whispered as she shook her head. “I can never hate you.” Her smile seemed a bit sad, but real, as she spoke, “You’re my friend, after all. How can I hate the first friend I’ve made eons since I became immortal?”_

_._

_._

_._

* * *

 

**XIV.**

 

Skull felt much, much better now that he knew that Harry didn’t mind him joining mafia. Though he didn’t quite escape from Harry’s wrath when he told her how exactly he had gotten into this mess. A stern lecture from her about _“Stranger –Danger”_ and a few scathing comments about _“how his younger self was smarter than him since at least Neil knew not to take up any stranger’s offer”_ almost made his ears bleed.

 

Ever since he came clean about Mafia to Harry, Skull would often find himself regaling tales of his newest companions and the mess they end up in on a daily-basis whenever he visited her after getting life-threatening injuries due to either training accidents or during missions. Harry would listen to him ramble happily about his teammates while she would heal him and sometimes he even saw flashes of loneliness and pain flashing through her eyes, but maybe he was just imagining things.

 

On the other hand, his teammates had been baffled by his “immortal-ness” –as they had started calling it. One moment he would be almost dead on the floor – _life threatening wounds littered over his body_ \- and the next moment he’d be all patched up – _as if he hadn’t almost died a few seconds ago_. The first time that had happened, Luce almost had a heart attack because she had been worried about him since he had gotten the bullet wound while protecting her, and it was only because of Fon’s gentle coaxing that she stopped sobbing hours later. The others had been flabbergasted – _in Lal, Viper and Fon’s case_ \- and fascinated – _in Verde’s case, that is_ \- while Reborn had smacked him with a Leon-hammer for making Luce cry. He thought the hitman was just worried about him but was tsundere enough to not agree it outwards _. Aw….. now he’s feeling all fuzzy and warm because of them._

 

When the same thing happened the next few times when he got hurt enough that if he was any normal person, he’d have been dead; they stopped making a fuss of every time he “died”. That made things both easier and harder for him at the same time. Easier- since Luce didn’t worry over him too much. Harder- because the others (especially Reborn, Lal and Fon) took it as a green signal to get a living-breathing training dummy. It was _worse_ that Verde was now always looking for a chance to dissect him to find the secret of his so-called “immortality”.

 

………….Well, at least they now believed that his title of the **Immortal Stuntman** wasn’t worthless. That has to count for something, right?

 

* * *

 

**XV.**

Over the months he had spent together with his teammates, there was something Skull had started noticing. For some reason, the others always paid a bit _too much_ attention to Luce. It shouldn’t be a big deal, since Luce was pregnant and was as fragile as a porcelain doll. But for some reason, his instincts said that this wasn’t it. There was something else at play.

 

Because taking care of a pregnant woman was one thing, but resenting her with gifts – _sometimes expensive, sometimes personal_ \- was another, and hell, even _Viper_ once grudgingly lowered their prices at Luce’s insistence. He knew that the money-grubbing Mist would _never_ lower his prices – _even for a pregnant woman_. So, what the hell was going on?!

 

In the end, he couldn’t stand his curiosity and cornered Luce one evening to ask her about it.

_._

_._

_._

_The kind woman blinked. “You mean you don’t know?”_

_“Don’t know what?” He asked, annoyed._

_The next few minutes were spent as Luce patiently informed him about Sky attraction and the process of Sky courting by the elements so as they could get a chance to harmony with a potential Sky and become their “Guardian”._

_“Courting –as in **dating**?” He squeaked, horrified as a thought occurred to him.  “But don’t you already have a husband?”_

_Luce couldn’t help but chuckle at his expression and shook her head. “It’s different, Skull.” She insisted. “Sky Courting doesn’t actually **mean** courting, it’s just how it is called. Though,” her eyes sparkled with mischief as she said slyly, “-some guardians prefer it to mean it in a literal way.”_

_For some reason, Skull’s cheeks flushed, making Luce giggle. She just poked his cheek and gushed how cute he was. He half-heartedly smacked her hand away, to which she just pouted at him._

_A thought occurred to him and he blurted out, “Is that why Reborn is always flirting with you?”_

_“You guess.” She said cheekily, making him huff in annoyance._

_He mulled over her words and tried to make sense of them. Well, if what she says is true, then the way he had seen the others –including Colonello- stumble around her and went on to fulfil her whims, he guessed they were all trying to form a guardian bond with Luce. Luce did say that all un-bonded elements have the urge to court a Sky they wound worthy. But that raised another question in his mind._

_“Why don’t I have the urge to court you?” He asked quizzically. He was sure he too was an un-bonded Cloud, so why didn’t he feel the Sky attraction towards Luce?_

_Luce stared at him, surprised. “You mean you don’t know?”_

_“Don’t know what?” He asked, confused._

_She stared at him in disbelief. “I sensed some potent Sky Flames -that were not mine- marking your flames, so I thought that maybe you were already courting a Sky, or maybe that Sky is courting you?”_

_I don’t understand.” He shook his head, too confused with his situation. So someone other than Luce was trying to court him as a guardian? But he didn’t know any Sky Flames user!_

_Wait………. didn’t Harry have Orange Flames? And Sky Flames are supposed to be of orange colour….._

**_No way….._ **

****

**_No fucking way……._ **

****

**_Harry wouldn’t-!_ **

_Skull ignored Luce’s frantic calls from behind her as she called his name in worry, but he ignored her in favor of storming out of the mansion o his bike, and for the first time in his life he knowingly slammed his bike against a moving truck. Ignoring the worried screams of the passersby’s, he felt the familiar lull of death as he closed his eyes and embraced the darkness._

_._

_._

_._

_Harry blinked as Skull materialized before her eyes, and glanced at his heavily bleeding head in concern. Her eyes flickered back toward Skull’s seething form as he ignored his injury and stormed towards her._

_“ **Harriel Lily Potter** ,” he hissed under his breath, “explain to me why –and when- the fuck did you mark my Flames with yours?!”_

_“Oh,” She blinked a few times and then whispered. Her shoulders sagged when she realized what he was talking about. “ **Oh.** So you know about Sky courting and harmonization.” She paused and asked, “Who told you?”_

_“Luce told me.” He said as he clenched his fists to control his fury. Never had he felt such potent and destructive anger. And he didn’t even know **why** he was angry. Was it because he was offended that she didn’t ask him opinion before she marked his flames like someone brands **cattle?!** Or was it because of something else? “She told me something that I should’ve heard from **you**. So why didn’t you tell me, Harry?” His purple eyes flashed in anger as he grabbed her shoulders and tightened his hold on them, and she didn’t even flinch at his tight grip. “Why would you mark my Flames?”_

_Her green eyes flashed coldly as her temper flared. “What would you expect, then?” She said scathingly. “Why would a lone, immortal Sky **not** court a Cloud that she finds worthy after eons of loneliness and despair, huh?! What is wrong in that?”_

_“Then why didn’t you bond with me as a guardian! Why didn’t you tell me anything about it? WHY?!” He hissed out in anger, and realized that **this** was what that really angered him. That she didn’t form a guardian bond with him. Why would she court him as her element but not form a bond with him? Did she not find him worthy enough to stay under her all-encompassing Sky? Is that it? Or was it something else?_

_…….He didn’t know._

_She bit her lip, but didn’t say anything. A moment later, she spoke softly as she quoted the words he had heard from Luce when she had explained to him about the Seven Flames of the Sky, **“**_ **_A solitary, drifting Cloud, whom cannot be bound.”_ **

_“Clouds hate it when they’re bound to one place.” Harry whispered as if she were in pain, and squeezed her eyes shut. “You might not be a Classic Cloud, but you’re still a Cloud. You can’t stay at the same place for a long time –you feel caged when you’re bound to something. You crave for freedom in your own way. How can I take away the thing you want the most by binding yourself to me? I’m not that cruel, you know.”_

_His grip slackened as he stared at her pained expression with wide eyes. He hadn’t thought that way. He thought that Harry found him unworthy of becoming a guardian, when the truth was far from it. She had actually been restraining herself from bonding with him, because she was afraid that she’d snatch away the thing that was most important for him- **his freedom**. For centuries she was drowning in loneliness and despair, and when she finally found someone worthy to bond with, she had to restrain herself for their sake. It must’ve been so hard for her all this time._

_“Oh Harry…..” He couldn’t help but whisper softly as he sighed. “I’m so sorry.” he whispered as he pulled her in a hug, to which she stiffened. It was only now he noticed that she was a head shorter than him. “I had no idea you were suffering so much. I’m sorry for doubting your intentions. Forgive me, will you?” He apologized for his rash actions and hurtful words._

_She shook her head and buried her head into his leather jacket as she clutched him a bit tighter and spoke - **though her voice sounded muffled because of the hug** , “It’s not your fault.” She insisted. “I should’ve explained it to you earlier. I forgot that you might not know about things that I find to be basic enough for everyone to know. It has been a long time since I have been in a mortal’s company, and I might have forgotten a few social cues.”_

_A chuckle escaped from Skull’s lips. “I think the way you trip through social cues is quite cute.” He admitted, and blinked when he saw her ears turn red. Wait, no way…….. is Harry **blushing?**_

_Oh, what has the world come to?!_

_Harry shoved him away when he started laughing. And true enough, her face was as red as her hair._

_“Oh hush you!” She said in a scolding tone, though the way her lips twitched upwards told him that she wasn’t actually angry._

_His purple eyes softened and he murmured, “You don’t have to restrain yourself, you know.” her head snapped towards him, and her eyes widened at his words. “I don’t mind if you bind me to you.” He then tilted his head and asked nervously, “So, will you let me court you so that I can be your guardian?” He held out his hand and asked, “Will you give me a chance to stay under your all-encompassing Sky, Harry?”_

_“Are you sure?” She asked hesitantly._

_“Of course.” He said with a grin. “The great Skull-sama doesn’t say things half-hearted!”_

_“Even if you regret it in the future, I won’t let you go.” She asked warningly, her green eyes flashing a pretty orange for a second possessively._

_Skull just smirked at her words as he said proudly, “Just what I’d expect from my Sky.”_

_She smiled softly and placed her hand over his as she spoke, “Thank you, **mia cara nuvola**.“_

_A spark of purple and orange flashed between their skin, and suddenly, Skull let out a pleasant sigh as he found himself immersed in a warm feeling. He felt as if he was enveloped in a warm and fuzzy blanket. Harry’s Sky Flames felt like a mother’s soft kiss against a child’s face, like a lover’s embrace. It felt like **home**._

_“Is this….?” He asked hopefully._

_Harry just smiled and nodded. “It’s harmonization.” She said. “Our Flames harmonized with each other.”_

_She patted his cheek and gave him a warm smile, “Thank you for being my Cloud Guardian, Skull.”_

_._

_._

_._

* * *

 

**XVI.**

He had woken up after that episode in a local hospital, with a sappy grin on his face and his face flushed as if he were drunk. After assuring the Doctors there that he was fine –much to their bafflement- he made his way back to the mansion, where a worried Luce and his equally worried – _as well as pissed_ -  acquaintances were waiting for his return. One look at his face had Luce calm her worries – _though was he imagining it or did her eyes actually flash with disappointment?_ -as she congratulated him  and assured him that he wasn’t ill, and was just flame drunk, and it was a side effect of having a very powerful Sky; while the others shot him a jealous glare – _Reborn had especially been pissed because among them all, it was the **lackey** who first Harmonized with a Sky, and that was a blow to the Hitman’s pride_. The others had been curious about his Sky and interrogated him about her, but Skull didn’t tell them about Harry. Call him selfish or possessive, he didn’t care. Harry was **_his_** _–at least for the moment_ \- and he won’t share her with them if he could help it. Besides, they had Luce – _and although there’s nothing wrong with having pregnant woman as a Sky since she was so kind and nice, but well, he still preferred having Harry as his Sky-_ so they don’t need Harry at all. So why should he share _his_ Sky with them?

 

The news of his harmonization only made the others even more competitive for Luce’s favor. It was sort of amusing, watching them all catering to Luce to get her to spare them a thought and give them a chance to bond with her. They did sometimes pester him about his Sky, but when they saw how unrelenting he was and that he was stubborn enough to not speak any information about his Sky to them – _except about how beautiful, amazing, kind, warm and forgiving she is, and he was sure that they were sick of hearing him go on and on about his Sky’s awesomeness while they were still competing for a Sky’s favor._

 

He was quite content with the way things were. Sure, there was that occasional mission where something always went wrong, and he’d end up getting hurt – _but it was alright because it’d give him a chance to meet Harry and that was always a plus in his book_ \- and Reborn and the others still liked to mess with him with their teasing and a bit of bullying – _he thought it’s just their way of caring_. _Tch, tsunderes, the lot of them_. Everything was perfectly fine the way it was.

 

So of course, it was then that everything went to **_hell._**

_._

_._

_._

_Skull walked behind everyone, wincing as his instincts hissed and clawed inside him like a disgruntled cat. He rubbed his temple, trying to soothe his headache a bit, but to no avail. He eyed the others walking up the rocky path on the mountain – **Luce at the very front with Reborn at her side as he helped the pregnant woman climb up the mountain, with the others following them** \- and wondered if they weren’t feeling the strange heaviness that seemed to linger around this mountain like he was. He didn’t understand why his instincts were going haywire. This was just a normal treasure hunting mission on some unknown mountain – **it wasn’t even as dangerous as some other missions he had the (un)fortunate luck to do in the past few months** \- so what was the big deal about it?_

_It wasn’t until he walked onto the top of mountain that suddenly things took a turn for worse. A bright light blinded them, and suddenly Skull couldn’t move. Al he could feel was-_

****

**_panpainpainpainpainpAINPAIN-!_ **

_He distantly heard screams from the others as well –his own was missed in the cacophony of screams- but he didn’t pay any attention to it. All his focus was on the tiny sliver of orange that was being **ripped** from him-_

****

**_NonononononONONO-!_ **

_He desperately grabbed onto the warmth – **her warmth** \- and tried to tug it closer to him. Something was ripping away his bond with Harry, and tried to shove another bright Sky Flames into him, but he didn’t want the other one! **They** weren’t as warm as Harry’s flames! Besides, he’d **never** betray Harry like that! Harry was **his** , and anyone who’d try to rip her away from him will **pay**._

_The other orange flames faltered and pulled away, and before he knew it, the agony stopped. His body still trembled in phantom pain, but he was mostly relieved that he didn’t lose Harry’s warmth-_

_-only to have the small feeling of relief shatter in a thousand pieces when he opened his eyes and found that his body was quite shorter now – **an infant’s** \- and there was a purple pacifier hanging over his neck. Skull stared at his so, **so** tiny hands, and didn’t even glance at others who were in the same predicament like him –Colonello was also standing with them, having a blue pacifier, while Lal was angrily hissing at him, her own dull grey pacifier hanging around her neck._

_He ignored Checker-Face as he appeared before them and informed them of their role as **‘Arcobaleno’** –the ones who keep an eye over the Tri-ni-sette. He ignored Luce admitting the fact that she knew what was coming and apologized for deceiving them. He ignored as the others hurled insults at Luce for betraying their trust._

_All his attention was on his tiny hands - **his infant body** \- and all he could think of was the impact this will have on his life. He couldn’t go back to being just “Skull”. He couldn’t ride a motor bike anymore, or do stunts, or participate in races and shows or perform for his beloved audience because he was stuck in the body of a cursed baby. He was stuck in a body too **short** , too **young** ……. bound with a curse that would leech onto his Flames for all eternity until the day he **really** died._

****

**_He would never be free again._ **

_The realization snapped something inside him as an animalistic scream escaped from his lips, startling the others. The others stepped closer to him, trying to calm him down, but to no avail._

_For the first time in his life, Skull DeMort gave into the violence and bloodthirst singing in his veins and rampaged like the Cloud he was._

_He didn’t know how much time had passed – **had it been just a few minutes? Hours? Or days? He didn’t know…..-** all he was aware of was how his body ached, how tears rolled down his cheeks as he wept, and how his throat was hoarse from all the screaming and wailing he did in his rampage._

_He was all alone in the destroyed clearing – **the others must’ve fled when they couldn’t get him to calm down** \- curled in a ball as he mourned the loss of his freedom….. his **everything……..**_

_He didn’t know how much time he spent weeping, when he was pulled into a warm embrace, and the fragile bond inside him thrummed with power, soothing his hurt Flames. He inhaled her scent and grabbed her robes with trembling fingers as she clutched him closer to her. He buried his head inside her chest, unwilling to face her – **or anyone else for that matter** \- just yet._

_He didn’t know how Harry was here and not and at her Train station like she always was, nor did he care. She was here, with him – **and that is all that mattered to him.** He had lost his everything in just a span of few hours, and if even **she** would forsake him, then he would truly **break.**_

_“Oh Skull……..” she whispered as she kissed the top of his head and rubbed soothing circles on the back of his infantile body. “I’m so, **so** sorry……..” She apologized again and again, to which he just shook his head and wept harder._

_He cried until he had no more tears to spare. His purple eyes were red-rimmed, and were dried of tears, his throat was raw from all the screaming and weeping he did, and there were tear tracks running down his cheeks, ruining his make-up – **not that he cared even a bit about that**. He sat in her lap, clutching her hands as if they were his lifeline and he would drown if she took them away from him._

_Her palm cupped his cheek gently, and he glanced up at her – **only to widen his eyes when he saw how her emerald green eyes seemed to glow and thrum with power**. She was angry, but not at him. She was angry **for him**._

_“Skull, I won’t let you suffer alone.” She promised him as she leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I’ll find a way out, I promise.”_

_The gentleness in her eyes were wiped off the next second as cold fury flashed in them, and she swore-_

_“And the ones who made you suffer today, I swear, they will **pay**.”_

_._

_._

_._


	3. Twilight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Harry came to know about her being the Master of Death, as well as the aftermath.....

**XVII.**

Ever since she was young, Harry knew she was different. The others couldn’t make Aunt Petunia’s prized roses bloom in winter by just coaxing it gently. They couldn’t turn Mr. Smith’s hair blue when he had scolded Harry a bit too harshly in his class one day. Neither could they vanish from the sight of their bullies and appear on the rooftop in a single moment. No one could do things like Harry could do just by willing them to happen. That is why Harry was different. That is why she was a _freak_.

 

But then she got the Hogwarts letter when she was eleven, and Harry realized that everything she had been told was a lie. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had told her that her parents were no-good drunks who died in a car accident – _when in reality they had been murdered by a psychopath_. They told her that because she could do impossible things – _things that bend and broke the laws of nature so easily when she willed it to_ \- she was a _freak_. They told her that _freaks_ don’t get to wear nice clothes; that _freaks_ don’t get to celebrate their birthday, or make friends. They said that it doesn’t matter that she was a girl or a boy –the only thing mattered was that she was a _freak_ , and just for this reason she would never be worthy of anything in her life.

 

**_Lies._** They kept feeding her lies for the first ten- _impressionable_ \- years of her life, and when the truth came out, they tried to hide it from her with all their effort. After all, who would let go of such a convenient, gullible punching bag? But then she got the letter, and their web of lies fell apart like a string of dominoes. Harry was so _angry_ when she realized that everything they had told her was a lie. Just because of a decade old petty grudge they had stomped down on her pride and used her like a slave – _as if she owed them everything_ –while the truth was far from it.

 

 So fed up with the bunch of hypocrites that were her relatives, Harry grabbed the letter addressed to her and set off towards Diagon Alley with the help of the funny half-giant who introduced himself as Hagrid. Hagrid was the one who told her the truth about her parents, about her past. He was the first person who wished her a “Happy Birthday” for the first time in her life, and even gifted her cake that must’ve tasted better than it looked – _too bad all of it went in Dudley’s tummy. Oh well, at least she got a laugh out of his transfigured pig-tail that Hagrid had cursed him with for stealing her first ever birthday gift._ Hagrid was her first friend, and she would never forget him just because of this reason alone.

 

Hagrid introduced her to the Wizarding World. He also gave her beautiful owl Hedwig. He told her about Hogwarts, and sparked the hope inside her that she wasn’t unworthy, that she deserved friends and family as much as any normal person out there in the world. Even though he was sometimes air-headed and clueless – _and a horrible cook to boot_ \- Harry loved him for it and wouldn’t have him any other way.

 

And so, remembering Hagrid’s words, Harry stepped onto the platform Nine and three-fourth and met the ones who’d forever change her life for the better.

 

* * *

 

**XVIII.**

 

Hogwarts was….. different. A _good_ different. All her life she had been told she was unimportant, unworthy……….. but here _everyone_ told her that it wasn’t so.  That she was worthy. Important – _if the way they looked at her in awe and reverence was any clue_. She was grateful that the Wizarding World – _and Hogwarts in turn_ \- accepted her presence with open arms. Though she could do without the ‘Celebrity-like’ treatment. It wasn’t long before it got annoying. 

 

To her, Hogwarts was something akin to a child’s dream come true. There was a castle – _filled with ghosts, secret chambers and passages, staircases that moved –as if they had a mind of their own- and even talking portraits!-_ where children were taught how to use and wield magic. It was as if she was living in a fantastical illusion. It’d have been even better if trouble didn’t follow like a persistent Fluffy hell bent on cuddling with her. Because seriously, in her first year there was that troll, and then the chase to stop Snape from getting Philosopher’s stone – _only to find in the end that it was actually the cowardly, stuttering Professor Quirell who was after the stone_ ; in the second year she had to deal with Basilisk – _the less said about that, the better_ ; in her Third Year she was the target of an escaped convict’s attention, only to find that that escaped convict was her Godfather who had wrongly been accused for betraying her parents, while the _real traitor_ was out loose, and alive as he avoided suspicion by transforming as an Animagus for the last few years; in the Fourth Year she had been _forced_ to participate in a ‘Life-or-Death’ tournament even when she was underage, and it was _horrible_ because no one – _except Hermione_ (Bless her soul)- believed her when she said she didn’t put her name in that _thrice damned goblet_ , and in the last stage of tournament something went wrong as Cedric died and Voldemort was resurrected; her Fifth Year had been even more horrible- having Umbridge terrorizing the whole Hogwarts with her reign, the Ministry acting like _stupid chickens_ as they denied Voldemort’s return, and in the end being so fed up with _adults-who-did-nothing-about-all-of-this_ she took the matter in her own hands and –along with Hermione and Ron- started the Dueling club, which they jokingly aimed as the Dumbledore’s Army. Only for their joke to backfire when Umbridge caught them and only because of Hermione’s quick thinking they managed to get out of this mess. And then she – _being her stupid, gullible self_ \- played right into Volemort’s hands by believing into the visions he purposely sent her about them torturing Sirius. She stormed the Ministry of Magic with her friends to rescue her Godfather, only to find that it was all a trap. Her friends almost died, _she_ almost died, heck, _Sirius actually died_ –all because she was a fucking gullible idiot who always played right into others hands without using her brains. All because of a Prophecy. _A fucking Prophecy._

 

The Ministry finally had to admit that Voldemort had returned after they unexpectedly waked in when Harry flew into rage to chase Bellatrix –to kill that insane witch who killed Sirius, only to almost get possessed by Voldemort. Fudge resigned, and the whole Wizarding world once again shook in terror as they finally realized that the Dark Lord had once again returned. The adults planned, the children prayed, and all of the Wizarding World placed their hopes on Harry to save them once again.

 

And then Dumbledore died in her sixth year –but not before informing her about Horcruxes. _And so the Hunt began._

 

For months she wandered around the globe- _looking for clues, searching for those cursed artifacts, escaping the snatchers sent after them, trying not to worry about the remaining of her precious people – **her chosen family** \- and praying for their survival_. All the while Voldemort and his army took over the Ministry of Magic in Britain, and got a hold of Hogwarts. Her friends from DA kept their heads down for a while, but behind the authorities’ backs, they plotted their counter-attack. Because they knew that it wasn’t a matter of “How” they would do it, it was only a matter of “When”. They were waiting for Harry, and while Harry hadn’t known about that at that time, she couldn’t help but broke down in happy tears when she heard about it later.

 

The hunt for Horcruxes wasn’t all sunshine and daisies – _not that they had expected it to be_. They were tensed, stressed, and most of all none of them had any idea what to actually _do_. After all, they were just teenagers – _mere school students_ \- who were forced to take on a role much, much larger and heavy with responsibilities for their age. Hermione suppressed the guilt of obliviating her own parents - _even if it was for their own safety_ \- just for the sake of her friends, and used every bit of her wit and cunning to desperately search for clues. Ron tried his best to keep their morale up and drove them forwards with his loud enthusiasm – _hiding the fact that he was worried about his family, afraid that he would lose any of them while he was on this self-imposed task that seemed more like a wild-goose chase with their  every failure_. And Harry? She was worse off of them. She was still mourning Sirius’s loss; guilty of dragging her friends in this mess; worried for the friends she had left behind; angry at the Wizarding Population who placed their hopes on a mere teenager instead of solving their problems with their own hands and not willing to do anything other than criticize her and slandering her for her absence – _what the fuck is wrong with them?!_ Harry _hated_ the people of Wizarding world and their sheep mentality, _hated_ Voldemort for being his psychopathic self, _hated_ Dumbledore for believing in a half-assed prophecy and for putting such a big burden on her shoulders- but above of all, she _hated **herself**_ for being so weak and useless, and cursed her own existence – _because after all, if she didn’t exit, then her parents would’ve been alive, and she was sure they would’ve found a way to deal with Voldemort_ , _she had heard so much about their brilliance and smart tactics_. This war wouldn’t have been dragged on then. No more lives would’ve been lost. Everything would’ve been fine and dandy.

 

But it wasn’t.

 

And now it was up to three lone teenagers to shoulder the burden of freeing a whole goddamn society from the clutches of a psychopath to make everything right.

 

How was _that_ fair?

 

* * *

 

**XIX.**

 

Harry didn’t remember much about the events that led to the Final Battle at Hogwarts. Everything after the Malfoy Manor fiasco was a bit hazy to her – _all she remembered were the scars o Luna’s arms and her strained smiles, Ron’s glassy eyes filled with unshed tears for his friends,  Hermione’s screams of **agony** , her own body twitching in pain as it **hurthurthurthurthurt** , Dobby’s kind smile and bat-like eyes that turned dull and lifeless when the green light of the Killing curse hit him_. She didn’t remember clearly how she had broken into Gringotts along with Hermione and Ron, how she escaped the Death Eaters at Hogsmeade, how she entered Hogwarts and led her friends and acquaintances – _they were all children –teenagers, really- and they were supposed to participate in a battle, how is that even **fair?!,** _how she dueled death Eaters left and right, how she walked into the empty clearing that fateful day to be killed by Voldemort’s hands – _just like Dumbledore had wanted her to_ , how she had returned back to life in a blaze of orange fire that only she could see, and feel it coursing in her veins; how she dueled the Dark Lord Voldemort and defeated him with the Elder wand thrumming warmly in her hands – _as if it were meant to be there._

 

All she remembered from the Final battle were the terrified faces of her fellow comrades-in-arms – _her friends and other schoolmates who shouldn’t have been dragged in a war that shouldn’t have anything to do with them!_ \- ; the despair that clung to them as they wondered if they’ll still be alive after this battle; of the corpses of friends, families, acquaintances – _even of enemies_ \- that littered the grounds as the battle raged on; of the bittersweet end of the battle – _because they might’ve won the war, but they had lost too much to enjoy the Victory._

 

The days after the Final Battle Harry shut herself in No. 13 Grimmauld Palace after threatening Kreacher to not let anyone else in without her explicit order – _or so help her she would make him **pay** in a fashion that would impress even Sirius’s pureblood fanatic mother_\- and for the next few weeks she cut herself off from the world and immersed in grief of what she had lost – _Dobby, Fred, Remus, Tonks, Snape, **Sirius……**_

 

The people of Magical Britain demanded her presence –they wanted the Woman-Who-Conquered to lay the foundation of their newly revised Ministry of Magic and lead the efforts for reconstruction – _what a joke, how can Harry help others when she wasn’t even sane enough to help herself?_ So she resolutely ignored the paperazzi who wanted to have an exclusive interview with the Golden Girl, and burned all the fan mails and newspapers that Kreacher shoved at her in sadistic glee. For weeks she cut-off all contacts with the Magical Britain, and even refused her family and friends when they tried to barge in _–“Grieving alone isn’t healthy for your mental state, Harry!”_ \- and drag her out to see the world instead of suffocating herself inside the Grimmauld Palace with a grumpy Kreacher and her own dark and depressing thoughts for company.

 

In the end, it was Andromeda who made her get out of that damn depressing house. She somehow broke into the house – _using Teddy’s status as her Godson acknowledged by the family **Magicks** of Potter and Black Houses helped her find a loophole in the wards and hence, made it possible to break into the Grimmauld Palace _– and dumped Teddy on her lap. All it took Harry was one glimpse of her Godson’s chubby face as he reached his toddler hand towards her curls and babbled _“Godmama!”_ at her, and she broke down crying. Teddy – _her little sunshine, her **everything**_ \- just kept babbling in that cute voice of his – _though from the way his now tuft of red hair was changing into grey streaks, as well as ever changing green eyes that flickered to a dull color it was obvious that he wasn’t as unaffected by her cries as she had imagined him to be_ \- and she vowed that she would protect this little ray of sunshine – _who smiled at her as if she hung the moon and the stars in the sky, what an adorable child-_ for all her life. For the sake of this little child – _whose only loved ones left were his aging and grieving Grandmother and a not-so-sane Godmother_ \- she would **_live_.**

 

(……….she could do without the orange fire, though. It had no right erupting out of nowhere and scaring her Godson like that.)

* * *

 

**XX.**

So, Harry picked up her broken pieces and glued them together and decided to be a responsible adult – _for once in her life_ \- and returned back to the Magical Society. She put a poker face on and even when she wanted to run far, _far_ away at the sight of reporters – _she still remembered Rita Skeeter and how much trouble her overly exaggerated writings had caused her_ \- but she didn’t. For all she was more than happy to leave Wizarding World far, _far_ behind her while she goes on a journey of self-discovery, she knew that there were some things that only she could do, and for that she had to remain here.

 

The Wizarding world was going through a reform - _you can say_ \- and after Voldemort’s death, it’s obvious that the next to be purged are the Corrupted Officials of the Magical Ministry. While Hermione and Ron along with the Order – _and even Draco_ \- were doing remarkable jobs of cleaning up this mess, there are always some moles that hide deeply and will definitely strike when others least expect it and would definitely mess during the sessions of future reformed Wizengamot for their own gains. To say nothing of the bigot and discrimination that ran deep in some Pureblood families even after the war. And of course, you can’t forget the sheep mentality of most of the people in the Wizarding world. With Dumbledore dead for a long time and no Voldemort to forcibly suppress them with terror, they have no one to follow, and the Corrupted officials were taking advantage of this fact by appearing as magnanimous figures of public and pushing for laws and orders that would benefit them the most- which included the Marriage Law – _in which all Muggleborns and some HalfBloods with poor ancestries were forced to be betrothed to pureblood families as **concubines** to redeem them somehow for their dirty blood, or so they say_; then there is also Capture of Magical creatures Act where most Magical beasts or even halflings – _those who have blood of magical creatures flowing through their veins_ -were to be captured and classified into ranks, and to be treated accordingly to their ranks – _the dangerous ones were to be slaughtered while the lower ranked ones were to be tamed and used as **pets**_. Hermione and Luna – _along with all their friends who were in higher posts in the Ministry, because of their own skill as well as their efforts in the War-had protested heavily against it._ But even with the backing of the Ancient and Noble Houses of Longbottom, Malfoy, Weasley, Lovegood, Greengrass, Zabini, and many others; as well as several officials such as the new assistant DMLE Head (Susan Bones), the Head Auror-in-training (Ron Weasley), the Foreign Affairs Minister (Hannah Abott), the famous Magizoologist (Rolf Scamander) as well as some others. But those idiots in Wizengamot weren’t willing to listen to someone _young, impressionable_ and obviously _un-experienced_ and _much less knowledgeable_ than them and were all more-than-willing to pass this ridiculous law that would not only alienate the Magical Creatures from the Magical ministry of Britain, but would also condemn Harry’s little, _adorable_ godson to a worse fate just because he was a son of werewolf. It was like a ticking time bomb with the fate of activating werewolf bloodline hovering over Teddy’s neck like a noose. And well, for Harry, that was the last straw that broke the camel’s back.

 

_No one threatens her godson and gets away with it._ After all, Teddy was _hers._ And she would always, _always_ protect what is hers, _with her **dying will.**_

 

* * *

 

**XXI.**

That had been the first time Harry had used her seemingly worthless titles to use and with an iron fist she proved to others that she wasn’t the same naïve school girl anymore. She was now the Master of three of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses of the Wizarding World and the _‘Woman-who-Conquered’._ She deserved the respect that she had rightfully earned through sweat, blood and tears.

 

And so, she led the opposition against the misguided officials and pureblood families who had agreed to such ridiculous laws. With her popularity among the public of Wizarding World as their Saviour, it was easy to bring the Wizarding populace to her side. With Hermione and Luna arranging Magical Creatures Awareness campaigns, along with Draco and Daphne Greengrass running damage control –and with harry obviously siding with them- it wasn’t long before they won the trials and hence, the proposition were cancelled.

 

Harry didn’t like politicking, but sometimes she did have to interfere or else the bigoted, brainless fools – _the so called Council of Magical Britain_ \- would’ve ruined the Magical Society long ago with their brainless actions. Once even Kingsley jokingly offered her the seat as the Minister of Magic, which she stubbornly declined, because if she was forced to manage this society –full of wizards with sheep mentality – then she’d rather jump off a cliff, thank you very much.

 

Between taking care of Teddy and presiding over the Wizengamot from time to time -so that they don’t make a mess of everything because of their brainless actions- as well as with her own job as an Unspeakable –she had been researching the Veil of Death- Harry had her hands full. She never had any time for a reunion with her friends, let alone visiting them, since she was always busy with one thing or other. And so, many years passed in a blur and before she knew it, her Godson grew up and was ready to start his own first year at Hogwarts. She hadn’t known when her friends had started piecing themselves back together from the horrors of the War and started forming their own families –while she was still trying to get over it. Hermione married Ron and was busy caring for their children. Ginny vowed to stay single her whole life and went to play Quidditch for professional teams. Neville studied to be a Magibotanist and was dating Susan Bones. Luna was off gallivanting around the world with Rolf Scamander, looking for unknown Magical Creatures. George had married Angelina and had put his whole mind in expanding his business of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.  Draco married Astoria Greengrass, and was working in the Ministry as an official.

 

Everyone had moved on. _(Except her.)_

 

And as if _that_ wasn’t enough, after that particular enlightenment came _another_ startling realization, something she should’ve realized a long, _long_ time ago.

_._

_._

_._

_As Harry watched her friends and their families – **who had come to attend the small get-together Andromeda was hosting** (after threatening Harry to be present, **or else-!)** **before Teddy was off to attend his first year at Hogwarts** \- she couldn’t help but stare at their slightly dulling hair, as well as their aging skin –the laughing lines and slight wrinkles on their forehead- and then absently touched her own cheek. The tips of her fingers glided over her soft, supple, unblemished skin –free of any signs of aging- and blood drained from her face as a startling realization came over her like a hammer on a nail._

_“ **No…..”** Harry whispered as her eyes widened in horror._

_Wizards tended to age slower than Muggles- that was a fact. No one knew whether it was a side effect of using magic, or of something else. Magic not only slowed down the aging process of a wizard, but also increased their life expectancy. While a normal human has an average life span of eighty years, Wizards had an average life span of almost one hundred fifty years._

_But just because Wizards age slower did not mean that they didn’t age at all, which was what had startled Harry. Because compared to the aging adult-like look of her friends, Harry looked like a teenage girl in comparison - **which shouldn’t even be possible**. The only Magicals who don’t age are Vampires or Faes, and Harry was sure that she was neither._

_So what did this mean? This means that there was something wrong with her- because why else would she age and others won’t? It means that she was still different from her peers. And from a very young age Harry knew that being different was not always a good thing – **and considering her Potter luck you can assume it’d definitely be worse.**_

_“Harry?” Hermione asked in concern when she saw her friend’s face pale even further. “Are you alright?”_

_Harry’s eyes flickered over Hermione’s as she suppressed the urge to burst out in hysterical tears. Her eyes glanced over Teddy who had been talking eagerly with George and Ron, and pushed down her panic. She can’t ruin her Godson’s happiness with her own problems. So, putting a smile on her face, she shook her head and muttered, “It’s nothing, Hermione. I’m fine.”_

_ ( **She was not**.) _

_._

_._

_._

* * *

 

**XXII.**

A few days after the reunion party Harry visited a trusted medic to get herself examined, wondering if there was something wrong with her body for it to stop aging. To their surprise, there was nothing wrong with Harry’s body. She was perfectly healthy, and no diagnostic spells or tests showed that she suffered from any – _muggle or magical_ \- ailment. Since there was no medical problem with her body, then it’s obvious that the problem lies somewhere else. 

 

Harry waited until Teddy went off to Hogwarts before she grabbed Hermione and Ron about her un-aging problem. Hermione had some doubts about it since a few years ago, but hadn’t brought it up in their conversations when she had noticed that Harry didn’t seem to notice it herself, while Ron had just thought she was either using some Muggle cosmetic products or using glamour charm to make herself look young. There had been a few other people who had suspected it too – _some even had nefarious intent of exposing Harry’s non-aging problem by accusing her of doing dark rituals for immortality or something equally rubbish_ -  and if Hermione – _along with a few other friends of hers_ \- hadn’t been troubleshooting in the background Harry might’ve been even thrown into Azkaban without a trial if the matter had been brought to public attention.

 

That’s why, it didn’t take much to convince them, and once again, the once dubbed ‘Golden trio’ immersed themselves into research- _much to Ron’s dismay_. They first looked into the Black Family’s Library in the Grimmauld Palace, but other than some hints about a few _very_ dubious Dark rituals there was nothing that could point them to the right direction. Since they couldn’t find what they were looking for in the Black Family’s Ancient library, they turned their attention to other sources. Ron met up with their friends and discreetly asked for their advice in their endeavor. Hermione herself turned to the Ministry of Magic’s Archives, while Harry broke into the past years’ records of Unspeakables in hopes of finding something. To their disappointment, they couldn’t find anything even after searching for months.

 

Finding some clues about Harry’s supposed un-aging was like trying to look for a needle in haystack. At least during their hunt for Horcruxes, they had a vague idea of what they were supposed to look out for. But here, there was nothing that could hint them to _what_ the problem actually was.

 

And then Hermione became pregnant again, and the three of them decided to halt their research for a while so as not to stress her. And with Teddy’s return for the summer vacations, Harry had to divert her attention back to her Godson. Harry spent her vacations with Teddy, making happy memories, all the while hiding her problems with a smile on her face. 

 

When Teddy went back to Hogwarts for his Second Year, Harry applied for her resignation from the Department of Mysteries and went abroad. Since there was no clue to be found in Magical Britain, then she should look somewhere else. After all, the world is so vast, she might find her answers in some other part of the globe. Hermione and Ron had their own lives now. She can’t dump her problems on them and expect them to help her out every time. She knows that they treat her as their family, and don’t mind helping her out, and she’s really glad that they’re helping her out, but it doesn’t mean that she could get overly dependent on them. Maybe she should’ve waited until Hermione had birthed her child, but then again, it’s not like her friend would get any less busier after that. Caring for a child – _an infant at that_ \- must be quite tiresome. And even if she knew that Hermione would definitely somehow make up time to helpout in their research while also taking care of their child, she would rather let her focus on caring for her family than busy herself with a research that might not even bore results. Harry didn’t want to burden her friends even more than they already were.

 

And so, Harry grabbed filled two enchanted bags filled with a vault worth of gold – _who knows what kind of currency is used in some other Magical Communities? At least Gold is universally expensive enough that she might get enough money in it’s exchange_ \- and set off for her journey. 

 

* * *

 

**XXIII.**

Harry had known there were other Magical communities out there –during her induction ceremony as an Unspeakable, she had been debriefed about the various Magical Ministries of America, Japan, Russia, Italy, Korea, Australia, and France, as well as the Magical tribes of Africa, China, India, Atlantic etc. But _knowing_ about them and _visiting_ them herself were two different things.

 

In the years following her departure from the Magical Britain, she had first decided to try her luck out in the Magical Ministries that were a part of the International Magical society. America was certainly an experience –the Ministry there was efficiently organized and the divide between Muggleborn Wizards and Purebloods wasn’t to the extent it had been back home. The Wizards here also kept up with the latest muggle technologies, which is why it’s no wonder that the American society of Magic was leaps and bounds ahead of the Magical Britain in terms of magical technological advancements. The European Magical society had been a breath of fresh air for her. Magical Italy was beautiful and romantic and the magic duels and fights in the Grand Magic Colosseum were quite fascinating. The Magical French Society was a good place for shopping magical artifacts. Greece was more open-minded about Magical Creatures than any other Magical ministries in the world. The witches and wizards in Spain leaned more towards the entertainment industry – _what with having many idols, models and even actors working in magical theater groups_ –and wasn’t that a surprise. Germany was an experience in itself –the wizards were there well trained and loved challenging her to a fight –which would usually turn into an all-out brawl- _especially after knowing who she exactly was_. Well, at least she got to learn more about hand-to-hand combat as well as became proficient in muggle and magical weaponry.

 

Going to Africa’s tribal magical communities had been a huge mistake, especially when she had accidentally let slip that she was a Parselmouth– _though in her defense, how was she to know that a Runespoor had made it’s nest nearby?_ She had to flee the continent in fear that she would be forced to marry those the warriors of Magical tribes who got into their heads that the one who could defeat her would win her heart.

 

(That was when she started hating translation spells and vowed to learn to be multilingual with her own skills. Spending her time learning a new language was much, much better than trusting that crappy spell. After all, it was if it wasn’t for the stupid spell that translated like a crappy version of google, she wouldn’t have mistaken the tribe leader’s words . The man had asked her to marry one of her sons if they prove their strength to her, however the stupid spell translated that he meant to ask her to stay a few days and accompany them – _how could it mess up ‘ **kuoa** ’ of marriage and ‘ **kaa** ’ for stay, she will never know_\- and she had agreed, thinking that it’d be easier to ask around about her situation, then. Needless to say, her stay hadn’t been pleasant, especially with so many testosterone fueled idiots stalking her like crazy. She blamed the shitty translator spell, and vowed to work hard and learn other languages in future.)

 

Unfortunately for all that valuable knowledge and experience she got in her trip there – _Africa didn’t count….. that was a freaking disaster!_ \- she didn’t find even a hint about her strange condition there. So, she moved through Russia, and really appreciated the designers who made amazing clothes with magical fabric, and somehow altered even the most hazardous materials into convenient clothes – _she could’ve done without the Magical mafia breathing down her neck though, as well as the kidnapping and assassination attempts on her person_ \- and stepped into the Asian Countries. She passed through China and it’s Magical Community that focused more towards tradition and environment, and their magical cuisine was one of the best she had ever tasted in the whole world. She asked around about her condition and was pointed by a kind potion master towards a Taoist temple somewhere in Sichuan province. She had been disappointed when the Taoist Priest said he didn’t know, but he did tell her about someone who could tell her about it.

 

And so, finally after years of searching, she finally found her answers from a Buddhist monk living in isolation on one of the secluded mountain peak of the Himalayas in Nepal-

_._

_._

_._

_Harry sat silently before the older monk as he sat before her, counting the **mala** of Buddha beads in his hand. It has been a few days since she had arrived in the temple with much difficulty – **the temple had actually been hidden by a devious formation that was meant to confuse travelers, how mean** \- and had been staying in an empty side courtyard and asking around about the older monk. Finally after much pestering, the elderly monk agreed to her meeting._

_“What a curious child you are….” the older monk muttered as he stared at her and smiled. “For someone beloved by Magicks and chosen by Heavens, you have a fate full of suffering. But within that suffering you found your will to live, and lighted up your resolve for your loved ones, not knowing that you have been blessed by death.”_

_Her heart tightened at his words. Blessed by death? Was he talking about how she had survived the killing curse in her toddler years? Or of the numerous narrow escapes from death in her school years? Or about how she had walked into that clearing to die by Voldemort’s hands to destroy the horcrux living inside her, only to come back to life? Or is it related to her un-aging body?_

_“What do you mean?” She asked apprehensively._

_“Child of Magick and Heavens, so many people have coveted the gift you have unknowingly received from Death, yet none were ever successful. This old one does not know whether you truly are blessed or not.” He spoke calmly._

_Over the years she had spent experiencing many cultures and customs, she had started understanding the words hidden beneath the cryptic language that often wise members of any Magical society spoke. His words struck deep within her core, and slowly a conjecture formed in her mind. “What is this gift that you speak of?” she asked as she pursued her lips, fearing his next words. If what she had thought is true, then she really is in a big problem this time._

_“The gift of immortality,” He spoke bluntly. “-of power beyond one’s imagination that could either cause a calamity or a miracle, of the right to wield lives and deaths of every single soul in the many universes, of the chance of being one of the most supreme beings in the mortal world and beyond.” He stared straight into her green eyes that had now widened in shock, not noticing how she was paling with his every word. “Of being chosen as a vassal of Death itself.”_

_A feeling of dread curled in her gut. “What are you trying to say?” she asked fearfully._

_The monk sighed and picked up a brush, before dipping it in the ink and drew something on the old parchment before him. He then handed the parchment to her and spoke, “This old one thinks you might recognize these runes. Maybe now you will understand what this old one is speaking of.”_

_With trembling hands Harry took the paper from him and glanced at the diagram drawn on it. Her pupils shrank and cold sweat dripped down her temple as she let out a horrified gasp. The symbol of the Deathly Hallows was drawn on the stark white parchment. Looking at the symbol, she was suddenly reminded of words Luna’s dad had spoken to her during the time she and Ron and Hermione were on the horcruxes hunt-_

**_ “The Elder Wand, the most powerful wand ever made. The Resurrection Stone. The Cloak of Invisibility. Together, they make the Deathly Hallows. Together, they make one Master of Death.” _ **

_“No…” She whispered as she stumbled back in shock. She then shook her head and mumbled, “This is not possible…… It was just a myth…… How can this be-?”_

_“Every myth has a grain of truth in them.” the monk reminded her gently._

_She gasped and turned towards the monk and spoke anxiously, “Even if that is correct, there is another thing we need to keep in mind. I don’t have all the three of the Deathly Hallows! The stone was lost during the last battle somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. I myself had broken the Elder Wand and scattered it’s pieces in the valley behind the Hogwarts castle. And speaking of the invisibility cloak, I have already handed it to Teddy. Since the hallows are not together, how can I be the Master of Death?!”_

_“The artifacts of Death have chosen you. No matter what you do to them, or how much you deny their existence, they would one way or another, always return back to you –until the day Death itself takes them back.” the monk told her. "As for the reason of Death’s claim on you, isn’t it because you had chosen to die with open arms and greeted death like an old friend? The true Master does not seek to run from Death…… this is the reason why Death claimed you as it’s own. Immortality and Power is what the Master of Death deserves.”_

_Immortality? Power? What kind of joke is that?! She never wanted that! She never wanted any power or immortality or any stupid gift of Death! She doesn’t want to be this whatsoever Master of Death! She wasn’t Voldemort! She never lusted for immortality or power! All she wants was to live this lifetime and protect her loved ones and die a peaceful death. What kind of gift is that supposed to be? For someone who has already accepted her death to be just a matter of time, wasn’t this gift akin to a curse?!_

_Her hands clenched into fists and she bit her lower lip. “I do not want this kind of gift!” She insisted. “There has to be a cure!”_

_“All the people under the heavens covet immortality, but only you treat this gift as a curse.” The older monk mused. “How perplexing….”_

_“Please…” She whispered pleadingly, “Do you have a way to take away this blessing?”_

_The monk shook his head. “No one can deny Death’s claim. If Death itself has chosen you, then there is nothing anyone on this mortal plane that can do.”_

_Her face turned ghostly pale, and her green eyes dimmed in despair. Really? Is there no other way?_

_“Who should I go to, then?” She asked as she squeezed her eyes shut and sat with hunched shoulders, as if she was burdened by the weight of the world. “Where will I find my answers?”_

_“When you are ready, seek the gateway where death whispers and tempts the souls of the mortal realm. That is your destiny.” the monk told her before closing his eyes and resumed his chanting. His meaning was clear- this conversation was over._

_Harry sat there in a daze for a while, before she bowed to the monk and walked out of the temple. The sight of her desolate back made a young monk’s heart ache._

_“Teacher…” he asked as he placed tea before the elderly monk. “It truly is a pity that the young lady had to leave our humble abode with such a heavy heart. Was there no way to lighten her burdens?”_

_The older monk opened his eyes and sighed. “Those chosen by heavens have much more responsibility on their shoulders than ordinary mortals. For this child of Magick to have been claimed by Death, it is obvious that she would face much more than what any fateful heaven’s beloved child could ever encounter. The things that are meant to happen, will happen. Neither you, nor I have the power to lighten her burden, or even share some of them.”_

_Seeing the young disciple’s disappointed look, he just quirked his lips upwards into a small smile, and said with a faraway look in his glazed blue eyes, “However, just because we cannot share her burdens doesn’t mean she will never find anyone who would be willing to do so. After all, the heavens might test their chosen warriors, but they would never be outright cruel to their beloved little Sky.”_

_._

_._

_._

* * *

 

**XXIV**.

And so, Harry returned to the Magical Britain with a heavy heart. Her friends and family had been really happy seeing her return, considering that she hadn’t visited even once during the years she had been gone, and other than the few letters she sent them every once in a while – _only Teddy received letters from her regularly, while the others received them sporadically_ \- they had no way to ensure if she was alright. Ron and Hermione had especially given her an earful, complaining that she should’ve waited for them instead of disappearing from their lives like that, and they even managed to extort a promise from her that she’d take them with her next time, no matter whatever silly expedition she was planning. Her heart warmed at their concern, but even their kindness and worry could thaw the cold that had settled deep inside her after hearing the monk’s words.

 

In the years she had been gone, her friends and family had gotten even older. Teddy was seventeen, and was about to graduate from Hogwarts. Her youngest godchildren were almost ready to start studying in Hogwarts that year. Her group of friends looked in their thirties, with even more aged lines and wrinkles on their skin. She looked like someone from younger generation, and not like someone who was a thirty-six year old who had fought a war with them. Her friends were curious about her seemingly eternal youth, and asked her about it, but she refused to say anything about it. She even turned down Ron and Hermione – _and even Teddy_ \- when they tried to pester her about it. She never wanted to tell them about the gift, or curse- _or whatever_ \- of death. She didn’t them to worry about her – _or worse, hate her_ \- for something that wasn’t even her fault. The emotional scars of pain and betrayal that she had suffered from in her teenage years had never healed. She knew better than anyone how weak-minded people of Wizarding Britain actually were. She was afraid that once the truth got out, it would be a repeat of her younger years – _of the accusations of being the ‘Heir of Slytherin’ in second year, of the mocking and bullying in her fourth year when everyone believed that she herself had put her name in that blasted goblet, of being called a liar in the fifth year and accusing her of being crazy when she said that Voldemort has returned, of being hunted like prey by the whole magical society of Britain when the Ministry fell in Voldemort’s hands_. After being burned too many times, how could she trust them to stay by her side if they knew that she had somehow turned Immortal? And even if they trusted her, then it is not guaranteed that her secret would not leak out. After all, the less people knew about a secret, the better. And if somehow her secret got out, then what if the people of wizarding Britain rebelled against her and proclaimed her to be the next dark lady if they ever knew that? Those morons would definitely believe such baseless rumors, and in the end, she would not only inconvenience herself, but also cause problems for the ones who would stay by her side.

 

So, it was better for her to keep everything in than to tell them the actual truth. _After all, who would believe that she was the Master of Death?_

 

However, when their nagging got too much, she couldn’t resist joking that she found the famous “Fountain of Youth” in the lost ancient magical city of Atlantis during her journey, and to her astonishment, they actually _believed_ her, saying that with her Potter Luck, anything was possible. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when she heard them speak like that.

 

She had especially dumbfounded when she heard that the people of Wizarding world themselves had actually believed this stupid explanation! She knew they were weak-minded and had sheep mentality, _but this was truly too much!_ Seriously, one must be mentally ill if they actually believed in such nonsense……. Though she had a feeling that their easy acceptance of a such ridiculous thing was Hermione and Draco’s doing – _if their smug smirks was anything to go by_. Usually the two of them would bicker and scorn each other, but when they worked together, their unholy alliance would even make Kingsley hide under his desk in terror, let alone appeasing a bunch of morons of Wizarding World.   

 

Maybe her loved ones had actually understood her feelings and decided not to question further. Or maybe they had believed her joke. Who knows? But what she did know was that Harry _loved_ them to death, and even if she was unwilling to let them know her deepest, darkest secret, she would forever be glad for their presence in her life and for all their love and trust for her.  And for this reason, she would protect them to her best of her ability, _with her dying will._

 

* * *

 

**XXV.**

And so, Months….. Years…… even decades passed, and Harry watched as her friends grew older day by day and in the end succumbed to death. She watched her precious godson pursue the lady of his heart, marry his girlfriend and let her play with her adorable grandchildren. She watched her godchildren settle down with their own families. Sometimes she too earned for a family like this – _for a lover who would whisper sweet nothings in her ears, for her own flesh and blood child she could dote on who would call her “Mother” sweetly_. But her desires would always remain just that – desires. Because ever since the day she became the Master of Death, she had lost the ability to conceive a child. No matter how much she tried, how many healers she visited, it didn’t work…… The title of Master of Death that had granted her Eternal youth and immortal and the ability to not die by any means, had taken something much, much precious to her- _her ability to conceive a child_. Which was why Harry could only watch over her loved ones and their descendants and could not start a family of her own. How cruel of Death to not only take away her right to die, but also her ability to conceive a child of her own.

 

What use is of Immortality and power when she has no loved one she can share it with? What use is this stupid title when she cannot even keep those close to her from the embrace of death? Why does she get to suffer a lifetime of loneliness and despair while everyone else get to enjoy their mortal life with their loved ones?

 

Hence, with such dark thoughts plaguing her mind, the very day Teddy’s soul left the world, Harry herself could not take it anymore and remembering the monk’s words, she went towards the “ _the gateway where death whispers and tempts the souls of the mortal realm”._ And so, with her head held high, Harriel Lily Potter walked into the Veil of Death in the Department of Mysteries of the Ministry of Magic, seeking the end of this curse so that she could rest forever.

 

_However, what she did not know that this is not the end, this was just the beginning._


End file.
